Little Fighter: Special Anniversary Edition
by Lady of the Lost and Found
Summary: Rise Again Little Fighter! The Lost Boys are the lords of the Santa Carla boardwalk once the sun goes down. However their nightlife gets interrupted when they end up saddled with the responsibility of teaching a new and confused vampire the ropes of the Undead Life. But when a dark figure from David's past comes roaring into town the Boys are left reeling in the aftermath.
1. Little Fighter

( _This story is dedicated to the memory of actor Bill Paxton, 1955 - 2017. Thank you for inspiring the ultimate "What If?". Rise Again Little Fighter_.)

The Lost Boys are the lords of the Santa Carla boardwalk once the sun goes down. However their nightlife gets interrupted when they end up saddled with the responsibility of teaching a new and confused vampire the ropes of the Undead Life. But when a dark figure from David's past comes roaring into town the Boys are left reeling in the aftermath. An age-old conflict has invaded Santa Carla's shores and everyone is gearing for one hell of an all-out fangs-bared fight. Only one thing is certain though. There will be blood. So. Much. Blood.

 **Author's Note:** This fic holds a very special place in my heart. This seems to be the Year of The Lost Boys but it is also the year the Horrorverse lost its iconic son Bill Paxton. Paxton was the spark of inspiration that ignited the powder-keg that became Lincoln P. Dervish, one of the key OC characters in this work. I have decided to give _Little Fighter_ its proper due and finish it. The following is the updated Anniversary Edition of the original _Little Fighter_ that was first published in 2006. The original draft can be found on this account but only the Anniversary Edition will contain updated content, new chapters, author notes, character backstories, and the official story ending. I hope you enjoy the ride as much as I have over the last decade and it is time to bring _Little Fighter_ to a close. So fasten your freakin' seat belts!

 **Disclaimer: Please be advised that this story is rated M for Mature for a very good reason. The character of Lincoln P. Dervish is one giant trigger warning for PTSD and Mental Illness. This story contains graphic content, violence, course language, abuse, drug use, demonic possession, and other matters that may be unsuitable for young readers. **

(I do not own nor hold any claim to the characters/concepts/plots etc. from The Lost Boys film/book/comic/script franchise. This is merely a work of fan-fiction for enjoyment sake and there is no profit being made from it. No copyright infringement is ever intended. All original characters/concepts/storylines etc. that is not found in the Lost Boys film/book/comic/script franchise however do belong to me. They will not be used/borrowed/mirrored/lifted in any way without my consent. Thank you.)

* * *

 _Santa Carla, the supposed murder capital of the world. It's home to the odds and ends of (un)civilized America. Every type of person can be found in this small way-side coastal town if you look close enough. But sometimes when you look too closely, you find things you rather not see. Like the thousands of Missing Persons notices. Or the overflowing cemeteries with their graffitied headstones. The list just goes on and on._

 _But Santa Carla really isn't that bad of a town. Really, it's not. Carla's got quite the night life if you are into that sort of thing. If you're not, well, then you shouldn't be here. Let's be honest. You can't play with the big boys if you aren't prepared to get knocked around a bit. Trust me when I say that this place can be pretty rough. Carla's a tough Old Lady and that's what people love about her. She's the genuine article. And even the real deal has some rules to live by. Her Golden Rule is pretty simple._

 _Don't die._

 _In this town it's kill or be killed. The killed part might be a real drag but I'll tell you this though...the killing part ? It can be pretty awesome._

"Where is she? Dwayne! Where the hell did she go to now? You were supposed to watch her."

David stormed into the main cavern of the hidden lair looking extremely peeved. Decked all out in black and sporting a peroxide mullet that only he could pull off, the leader of the small band of Santa Carla vampires looked like one of those bad-boy Billy Idol types from an MTV music video. The thoroughly pissed off look on his face only added to his over-all gravitas. Yep, David was quite a looker. Pity his personality was a real drag.

"I turned my back for a second and then she was gone. She couldn't have gotten far."

Dwayne ran his hand through his long black hair for the umpteenth time that night. Tall, dark, and handsome, he was a brooding stand-in of a Calvin Klein model with a wild edge that could have sold tube socks by the truck load with a well-timed scowl. He may not have had a heart beat in years but his face was one of those that could certainly break hearts with a look. His was a quiet certainty that gelled well with David's electric charisma which had lofted him to the position of second-in-command in their small band of brothers. The two vampires worked well together despite being about as similar as the far side of the moon.

Only not right then. David was on the rag and there was no getting a sensible word in edgewise when that happened. Better to stay quiet and let things take their course.

It had been close to a month and their "problem child" had given them the slip more times than anyone would care to admit. It was starting to grate on Dwayne's nerves and he was supposed to be the stoic one of the group.

"Then check the Boardwalk. I'll hit the coast. She wouldn't go near the residential areas." David muttered as he yanked his trench coat off the back of a broken chair and threw it on. Not missing a beat he headed for the mouth of the cave while Dwayne followed at his heels.

"And if I find her?" Dwayne asked even though he knew what the answer would be.

"Drag her ass back here and whatever you do don't let Max see you."

David was all sharp edges as they quickly made their way up the long rickety wooden staircase that wormed its way up to the top of the cliff. The thing was a deathtrap waiting to happen and that was what made it a perfect fit for their secluded hole in the rock wall. No one with half a working brain cell would dare descend those stairs because it was painfully obvious that if they did attempt it they would become nothing more than a colourful splat against the jagged waterlogged rocks that waited below.

No other words were spoken as the two vampires mounted their waiting motorcycles and sped off into the night. Dwayne made a beeline for the the bright lights and tinny sounds of the Boardwalk while David was swallowed up by the waiting darkness, leaving nothing but tire tracks in the rocky sand as he gunned it towards Hudson's Bluff.

Growling to himself David had to squint against the salt that stung his eyes. The winds were picking up off the ocean. A heavy storm was brewing out there over the Pacific. He slowed his bike to a crawl as he stared at the mist-shrouded outline of the old lighthouse that stood as a silent sentinel out past the bluff. Its powerful beam of white light cut a blinding swath into the vast reaches of the dark ocean waters. That old relic always set his teeth on edge whenever he came this close. There were too many memories that clung to its stones, too many deaths that refused to find peace in the waters that surrounded it.

Thankfully it was only a matter of time before the town authorities finally closed the lighthouse down for good. Too many "suicides" were being committed in it and the locals had begun to look deeper into them. Time and the ocean would do the rest to drag the structure down into bay, one piece at a time.

David's cold eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he gave the empty expanse of the bluff a thorough once-over. If there was one place that little pain in his backside would be it would be where he had forbidden her to go. Sometimes it was almost depressing at how predictable teenagers were.

It did not take David that long before he spotted a faint pair of footprints in the dirt at the bluff's edge. There was only one person in Santa Carla who wore a size six and a half boot with a large heart engraved in the sole of the heel.

 _Gotcha._

David killed the Triumph's engine before he kicked down the kickstand and dismounted. Without a sound he peered over the edge of the bluff, searching the rough rocky outcropping below for any signs of life. The tide was out so the massive wave-battered boulders were exposed to the night air. Coated with thick layers of seaweed and other random bits of ocean debris it would have been easy to miss the small denim clad figure that was perched on the very edge of one of the larger rocks. But David hardly ever missed a detail, especially one so colourfully dressed.

"How did you find me this time?"

The figure said in a quiet voice. She did not look over her shoulder when David landed silently behind her and gave the swirling tide line a guarded look. He yanked the girl roughly to her feet and turned her around to face him. Shorter by a good few inches, despite the heeled boots she wore, David seemed to tower over the girl. Even so she slouched forward and refused to meet his gaze. He stared hard before he said anything. In the near dark of the ocean he could see that the garish purple eye make-up she wore was smudged and streaked. The girl had been crying hard. That could only mean one thing.

"You are the only vampire stupid enough to get this close to running water." David sneered as he tilted her chin up so that he forced her to look at him. "You didn't."

"I wanted to see if it was true." She averted her eyes, knowing that she was really going to hear it this time. "I didn't get far so can you just drop it?"

"Didn't get far? What? You thought that we were lying when we told you what running water could do to us? Show me." He ordered as he released his firm hold on her arm.

"No."

The girl took a step back and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. The dangling charms that hung off the front pockets of her patched and bedazzled jean jacket tinkled softly to the movement.

"Sarah, do not make me force you."

David resisted the urge to reach out and shake some sense into her. The girl, Sarah, bit her lower lip and shook her head. Teased blond hair went every which way when she refused him again. David gritted his teeth in annoyance and closed his eyes for a second. Losing his cool was not going to make the situation any better but he had reached that point where he refused to care anymore. The kid was asking for it.

She wanted to be difficult? Fine then. He would show her difficult.

His vampire self came out in full force. The demonic face, teeth, claws, the whole shebang. When he opened his eyes Sarah was doe-eyed with fear, fear she tried to hide behind a look of nonchalance. It failed spectacularly.

All David had to do to break through her pathetic defensive attempt was flash his fangs once in a crooked sneer before she crouched down and pulled at the soaked legs of her patched jeans. She knew better than to argue at this point. Sarah carefully pulled down the zipper of the right calf-length leather boot and gingerly eased her foot out of it.

"You only went knee deep?" David crouched down to get a better look at her bare foot. It was an ugly shade of blueish purple and white. It looked like it could have been frost bitten.

"Not even." Sarah hissed softly between her teeth when David bent her foot back and forth to make sure that it was not as serious as it looked.

"And the other one?" David glanced up at her.

"The same."

Sarah winced as she tried to balance on one leg in order to keep from tipping sideways.

David did not believe her.

"I swear I'm not lying."

The moment she placed her bare foot on the slick rock Sarah let out a sharp yelp. The pain intensified tenfold and caused the muscles in her legs to cramp. If David had not caught her she would have tumbled backward and landed headfirst onto some unpleasantly sharp rocks.

"I'll look at it when we get back at the cave. It doesn't look like it'll be permanent. You're lucky." David allowed Sarah to lean against him as she slowly put her foot back into her boot. "Next time you will listen to what we tell you and quit taking what we say for granted."

"Fine. Whatever."

"And the next time you pull another stunt like this," David growled as her nails dug into his jacket while she carefully worked the zipper, "I will leave you out here for the sun to end you. Is that understood?"

There was a bitter edge to his voice that drove the point home. Enough was enough.

He had just about had it with her little pranks. The night before she had leapt off a train trestle to test the theory of whether or not vampires had the ability to fly. If it had not been for Marko's quick actions Sarah would have ended up a broken heap of bones had she hit the bottom of that ravine.

"Well?"

Sarah refused to look him in the eye as she nodded her head in defeat. Like most newly turned vampires Sarah's enhanced abilities were raw and untested. There were things that she was fairly decent at by their standards. Running faster than a bullet seemed to be a personal favourite of hers that made David's eye twitch. Her inability to fly however was something that had them all puzzled. Every vampire that came from the bloodline they all shared had the ability to instinctively float for a short period of time before they eventually gained the necessary experience to achieve flight. But when Sarah had jumped she had plummeted like a stone.

Without the gift of flight she was at a severe disadvantage because that was one undead trait that the Lost Boys relied heavily on when they were on the hunt. Maybe she was one of those odd cases where the vampire never attained the ability to fly? If that was true David and the boys were going to have their work cut out for them more so than they already did. That was not something David or the others looked forward to.

"Yes, I hear you. I promise I won't do this again."

In their world a grounded vampire was as good as dead and Sarah had already proven herself to be a handicap on more than one occasion.

"Did you feed at least?" David rolled his eyes at the dark look she gave him. "When was the last time you killed something?"

"Tuesday."

She turned her back so that she could self-consciously use the edge of her Patti Smith t-shirt to wipe away the smudged eyeliner that had bled out under her eyes. It was bad enough that David had caught her at her most vulnerable but she still had a shred of pride left.

David turned his eyes upward and looked for answers in the overcast sky. Why him? Why was he the one left to deal with this sheer stupidity?

"It's Friday. You are aware of that right? It has been three days. What did I tell you about holding out?" He started with the riot act. This had to be what, the ninth time he had to say it to her? The tenth? He had lost count.

"I know, I know! I just couldn't do it tonight. I don't know why. I tried David. I did! But...tomorrow night. I promise I'll do it tomorrow." Sarah began to nervously gnawed her on her lower lip. She was in deep trouble now. Only there was no one that she could to turn to, nowhere she could hide.

David adjusted his gloves before he reverted back into his human visage once more.

"That was what you said yesterday."

David called her on her bluff.

"Come on David don't do this!" Sarah whined softly. David motioned at the cliff with a curt nod of his head.

"David..."

She tried once more but when there was no response Sarah hung her head. Without saying another word she carefully climbed off the boulder and began to pick her way toward the narrow trail that she had used to climb down the side of the cliff. There was no getting out of this one, not this time.

But there was still some fight left in her. Despite the fact that every step felt like she was walking on broken glass Die Hard style. She was sixteen, not six. If David thought that he could make her do something she did not want to do then she was not about to make it easy for him.

It always came down to the timing. Listening carefully Sarah acted instantaneously when the opportunity presented itself. Before David could pick up on what she was up to Sarah did something rather stupid. She lashed out and kicked David as hard as she could. Simultaneously both vampires let out a holler of pain, Sarah for her scalded foot and David for the cheap shot to his groin.

Vampire or not that really hurts.

David stumbled forward while Sarah clenched her teeth and bolted. She did not achieve warp speed but from a human perspective she was nothing but a colourful blur streaking up the cliff trail.

"Shit!" David venomously swore and it took a moment or two before he could straighten up. It hurt like hell but the pain quickly become a dull throb. A hair-raising snarl was let loose as he launched himself skyward in a gust of wind. Fiery eyes tracked the motion of colour that darted out across the bluff at a flat sprint. Sarah managed to get a hundred yards or so from the bluff's edge before David tagged her from behind with such force that they both hit the ground and rolled from the impact.

"Let go of me!" Sarah screeched when David locked her flailing hands behind her back.

"Shut up!" David hissed as he stood up and dragged her none-too-gently over to where the Triumph was parked. When she attempted another mule kick he tightened his grip and hauled her sideways so that he was out of her line of fire.

"David let me go! LET GO!" She shrieked, louder this time, before her teeth found one of David's gloved hand.

"ARGH! Shit!" David yelled when she bit down hard enough to bite right through the leather and into the back of his left hand. "You little-!"

The blow David delivered knocked her clean on her ass. He had no qualms about hitting a girl and did not hold back. As far as he was concerned equal rights meant equal lefts. This time Sarah stayed down. Her shoulders shook as she curled up into a ball with her arms covering her head in order to protect herself from David's angry outburst.

David swore something ugly and fierce before he wrenched the glove off in order to inspect the damage. That little brat had bit him clean to the bone and severed a vein or two. His hand was a bloody mess but the skin had begun to repair itself. In no time there would be no trace of the wound. His glove was ruined however and that annoyed him to no end.

"I swear if you try that again I will rip the fangs out of your skull." David was dead serious.

He ignored the muffled whimpering and reached down to yank the girl to her feet. In the same fluid motion he sprang back in surprise when Sarah turned on him. Her eyes were impossibly bright as her lips peeled back in a show of warning. She bared her fangs and hunkered down in the dirt and dry seagrass. From fearful to feral Sarah made herself as small a target as she could as she went into defensive mode. If David came near she would be on him like a Xenomorph facehugger and twice as nasty.

"This is what happens when you don't feed!" David barked in annoyance but kept his distance. He had hoped to avoid something like this for the past two days but it was only a matter of time before the girl went snake-eyed. Honestly why did he even bother when it was not worth half the effort it took trying to keep her in line?

David pulled off his other glove and pocketed it so that his hands were unrestricted. Out came the razor-like claws as he shifted into his true self but instead of attacking him as he expected Sarah did the exact opposite. She stayed low and backed away with a warning growl. Lowering his head David locked eyes with the girl and bared his fangs, a low dangerous snarl coming from deep within his chest as he tried to provoke an attack. Sarah hissed in a vicious reply but refused to move forward. Instead she started looking for a way out.

"C'mon!" David roared as he rushed her and stopped short in order to coax the response he wanted. Sarah hissed back but still the half-deranged fledgling refused to fight. If David did not dominate her in this form, as was the traditional way in dealing with unpredictable half-starved vampires, then he would have no other choice but to do what was necessary in order to force her to submit, even if it meant killing her.

Such was the twisted way of the vampire.

"C'mon." He muttered quietly under his breath when he saw her tense.

Before she could make up her mind one way or another a third vampire decided to join the fray. That was enough to startle her into action

"Gotcha!" Paul whooped loudly as he dive-bombed the face-off from out of nowhere. Giving a wild yell he took a mock swipe at Sarah that forced her to move. Sarah shrieked in surprise, the sound coming up somewhere between "nails on a black board meets dying rabbit", as she whirled around and slashed at the air where Paul had been only seconds before. It would be a cold day in the devil's sauna before she could best him from the air.

Paul swooped out of her reach and continued to pester her on from above. This gave David a chance to calculate his move. When Paul ducked quickly in order to avoid getting a face full of claws, David sprang into action. The precision strike to the back of the head had enough force to knock Sarah into next week.

"Impeccable timing Paul." David remarked as he lowered Sarah onto the ground, gingerly flexing his left hand as he did so.

"Well I was in the neighbourhood so I figured I'd drop by and see what was goin' on." Paul chuckled to himself as he landed lightly on his toes. A cheeky smirk appeared on his lips as he glanced down at Sarah who was out cold and in no position to cause them any more grief.

"What was it _this_ time?"

"What do you think?" David muttered as he undid the buckle of his leather belt and pulled it out of the belt loops of his jeans. "Give me yours."

"Again? This shit is gettin' old." Paul did as he was asked and handed David his studded belt. David knelt down and quickly lashed Sarah's hands behind her back with one belt, making sure that it was tight enough so that she could not break free when she came to. The same went for her ankles but David was careful not to cut off the circulation to her feet. He did not need to make the situation any worse than it already was.

David sat back on his heel for a minute and shook out his hand. The kid had a skull as hard as a rock.

"Do me a favour Paul. Take the bike and pick off one of the runaways on the beach. The last thing we need right now is a hunger strike. Max would have a field day with that." He looked up at Paul who scowled and shoved his hands into the pockets of his tailored tailed coat.

"Why the hell did we get stuck with the babysittin'? She's not ours. She's Max's problem." Paul gave David a knowing look.

"And we answer to Max so whatever Max says goes Paul. She's our responsibility for as long as he says so. Hey, do you really think that I enjoy doing this? I'd rather get rid of her and be done with it."

"Then why don't you?" Paul asked quietly, so quietly in fact that David almost missed it.

"I would if I knew we could get away with it. But Max knows exactly what he's doing and if anything happens to her, it'll just give him an excuse to have all our heads. We want to get rid of her, he wants to get rid of us, it's so simple it almost hurts." David replied as he reached into a coat pocket and pulled out a set of keys.

"I really hate that guy." Paul said and spat off to the side because the mere mention of Max's name left a foul taste in his mouth.

"We all do. Even her. But right now there's nothing we can do but deal with it." David pointed out as he tossed the keys to Paul.

"Same old song, different chord." Paul hopped onto the back of David's motorcycle. The keys were easily snagged from mid-air before the ignition was tripped and the Triumph roared to life.

"If you run into Dwayne tell him to get his ass back to the cave. I'm not wasting the rest of the night force feeding her."

"I'll tell him. He won't be happy but whatever. See you in a few." Paul gave David a mock salute and opened the throttle. The Triumph sped off with a wild holler from its rider. It was not often that Paul was given the green light to take the vampire leader's bike through its paces so he was going to make the most of this opportunity and run with it.

Without all of the caterwauling and carrying on he had no problem gathering Sarah in his arms. To him she weighed little more than a child because that was what she was. A innocent kid that was scared stupid about her new reality. She had no business being mixed up in their world of endless night and shadows. She was better off dead and they all knew it. Max was a real twisted piece of work. David cursed him with every foul name he knew as he launched himself into the sky and flew back to the safety of the cave.


	2. True Colours

**Author's Note:** This story is heavily influenced by the music of 80's. Each chapter is named after an iconic 1980's classic that ties into the underlying theme of that instalment. To best enjoy the story experience please put on a pair of headphones and follow along to the song selection that is listed at the top of each chapter. Happy listening!

 **Main Story Theme Song:** "Little Fighter" by White Lion

 **Chapter Two Theme Song:** "True Colors" by Cindi Lauper

* * *

" _Why am I always the one who gets scapegoated whenever something happens around here huh?"_

" _Scapegoat? Dwayne don't give me that. Not now."_

" _You're not sidestepping this one David. That kid takes off and automatically it's somehow my fault? What's the deal?"_

" _Deal? You want to know what the deal is? Tonight was your night to keep her in line and make sure that she fed so that we wouldn't have another repeat of what happened last week. But instead of doing what you were supposed to, you let her run off. I'm the one who's got to go after her and I'm the one who has to explain to Max why his new pet is being a right pain in the ass. That's the deal Dwayne. So deal with it."_

" _Oh don't go making yourself into a martyr David because it's not just about you. Somewhere out in the world there's a violin playing just for you and you know what? No one cares. You think that when Max gets pissed off you're the only one who has to put up with him? There are four of us in this pack David and I don't know if you realize this but when something happens it affects all of us"_

" _Don't get philosophical on my ass Dwayne. Just get it over with before sunrise or else you're going be the one that'll explain to Max why the little brat isn't being the perfect little demon spawn."_

" _Yo...what's goin' on?"_

" _Stay out of this Marko. It doesn't concern you."_

" _Since when does pack affairs not concern me?"_

" _Do you see what you started Dwayne?"_

" _Fuck off David."_

" _You fuck off."_

" _Hey! Why don't you both fuck off because you're acting like a bunch of assholes."_

 _"Oh shut up_ _Marko."_

" _Don't tell me to shut up David!"_

The heated argument continued to escalate as David, Dwayne, and Marko went all-out in a heating bickering battle that was loud enough to send their voices echoing through the narrow channels and small side-caves that were scattered deep within the rocky cliff face of the vampire lair. Gritting her teeth, Sarah had to listen to three vampires snarl at each other as she tried working her hands free of the leather belt that bound them. Trying very hard not to make any noise she twisted her right arm to the side and yanked back as hard as she could. It hurt like hell but after a long moment of resistance her wrist finally slipped free. Sarah sat up and went for Paul's belt that was tied around her ankles. Thankfully it didn't take her long to work the knot from the studded leather.

"Ow."

Sarah rested her forehead against her knees as she gently massaged her throbbing ankles. What was she going to do now? There was no back way out of the caves because the only way out was through the main cavern which was currently occupied. It didn't take a genius to figure out that sunrise was not that far off so that left Sarah with very limited options. Limited as in none.

"What am I doing?" She asked herself as she hauled herself painfully to her feet. The small cavern that she was in had been designated as "her space" since the boys all slept hanging upside-down in the decrepit elevator shaft during the daylight hours. David had made it very clear that she was not allowed nor invited to set foot anywhere near their sleeping nook which actually suited her just fine. Sarah was satisfied with staying hidden in her little hole in the wall because the more she stayed there the less chance she had of getting in anyones way.

"God, I just want to go home." She sniffed as she tugged nervously at her hair ratty hair. Wiping hew nose on the sleeve of her jean jacket Sarah re-tied her hair back with a black scrunchie so that it would stay out of her face. She had no clue how she was going to get away from this place and she was running out of time.

"Girl you are never goin' home." Paul's voice startled her as he appeared leaning against the entryway, watching her with a guarded look that made Sarah automatically take a step back in order to put distance between herself and the tall metalhead.

"What do you want?" Her tone was cautious as she quickly looked around. She had to make sure that the others were not about to come popping out of the woodwork as they sometimes did.

Paul snorted as he shook his head in disgust when Sarah couldn't help retreating a few more steps. Some vampire she turned out to be. No backbone.

"What I want is for you to wake up and realize that you're not in Kansas anymore Dorothy. You're stuck in Oz with the rest of us. There is no way in hell that you'll ever go back to that two-story house with the white picket fence of yours. Do you really think you can just waltz back to whatever life you had and all this will just go away?" He asked her as he crossed his arms over his chest, his dark blue eyes never leaving her as he just stared at her, enjoying her growing uneasiness.

"Go away Paul." Sarah remained where she was. She forced herself to meet his gaze even though she didn't want to. That's how they got into her head.

"Make me."

Paul smirked as he took a step forward. Sarah tensed up at his slight approach.

"I won't ask you again Paul, leave. Please." Sarah pleaded as she crossed her arms tightly in front of her in order to make herself as small as possible.

Whatever game he was trying to play she wanted no part in it.

Paul rolled his eyes.

"Trust me kid I am the least of your worries." He snorted as Sarah narrowed her eyes slightly. Paul was clearly enjoying putting her on the spot and watching her squirm. It made him laugh.

"Don't laugh at me." Sarah muttered darkly as she scowled at him. Paul just laughed louder.

"Ah god kid, you'll never be one of us." He mused as he gave her a knowing look which wiped the brooding glare off that innocent face of hers.

"Like I'd ever want to be "one of you." I'd get a reality check before that ever happened." Sarah sniffed, trying to muster up an edge she wasn't feeling.

"Don't go getting your hopes up." Paul casually picked at a loose thread on the cuff of his tailed jacket. A nerve in Sarah's jaw twitched as she tried to think of a nasty comeback but when none came to mind she spat out the only thing she could think of.

"What happened to the others?"

"What others?" Paul's face went blank.

"The other ones like me. The girls." Sarah had to tilt her head so that she could meet his eyes as she waited for the answer to the question that had been bugging her for the past week.

"Before you? I don't know what you're talkin' about girl." Paul said before he turned and headed out of the cavern, a worried look on his face that Sarah couldn't see as he walked away.

"You are such a liar!" Sarah said loudly, making sure that Paul heard her. "What happened to Tiffany and Jennifer and Deborah and Laura and...Sabrina? Am I missing anyone? Oh yeah, and what about Victoria? What happened to her?"

Paul paused just as he was about to step out of the chamber. Even though he was that close, he couldn't walk out of the room. She knew...somehow the kid knew.

"How do you know about them?" He asked quietly as he glanced over his shoulder. Sarah looked down at her hands that were in her lap, debating whether or not to tell him.

"Their names are carved into the wall behind the bed. Found them by accident. So, what happened to them all? Did they suddenly decide to get up and walk out on you guys? We both know how impossible that is." She began to gnaw on her fingernails, not sure if she wanted to hear the truth but she was just too curious to turn back now. She had to know.

Paul sighed as he closed his eyes for a moment and sent David a mental nudge before he stepped away from the entrance and moved back into the cavern.

Down in the main cave David paused for a second as he frowned and glanced over at the narrow tunnel that led to the old hotel bedroom before a sarcastic remark from Marko drew him back into the argument.

"How much do you know?" Paul asked Sarah as he tried to stall for time. He really didn't want to be the one to tell her about Max's past "pets" and he hoped that David would be able to bail him out before she found out anything else. He knew he was lousy liar; he didn't have the silver tongue that David had which was why he was the one who almost always landed himself on Max's "Problem" list. And that's problem with a capital "P".

"Just their names...and that one of them liked Duran Duran." Sarah said as she motioned to the lyrics scrawled in black marker in a corner on the far wall.

"Yeah, that was Jen." Paul said as his eyed the girlish scribbles with an almost wistful look on his face. Out of them all he had actually liked Jennifer. That one had a lot of spunk and was almost as reckless as he was. Their taste in music ran parallel to each other and there were a few good conversations that were had.

"Oh." Sarah murmured before an awkward silence filled the space. "So...what happened?"

"What do you think?" Paul snapped as he shook off the memories and brought himself back into the present. Sarah winced as if he had actually struck her and that little reaction was enough to trigger a nerve in him. "Oh don't start cryin'."

Paul didn't have to explain it in words for Sarah to get it. His reaction was enough to let her know that the girls that used to occupy this little room were no long part of the living...or the undead for that matter.

"I'm not." Sarah choked as she bit down her tongue to stop herself from sniffling. "Why did he do it Paul? There were six of them. Six! Why?"

"Because he got bored of them? They pissed him off...they didn't do what he wanted them to. They weren't perfect. I don't know, pick one." Paul shot at her and in that moment he may have felt a twinge pity for Sarah as she crumbled in front of his eyes. Yet the moment he did a wave of self-disgust washed over him and buried any sympathy he had for the girl. He shouldn't care about her, she wasn't his problem. This wasn't his issue to deal with.

Where the heck was David?

"Do you think...will my name be on the wall?" Sarah asked in a small voice as she hugged her knees to her chest. She looked up at him with scared eyes and Paul's silence was what tipped her over the edge of her shaky self-control.

"Why didn't you stop him! Why didn't you guys help them? Any of them!" Sarah sobbed.

Paul steeled himself and said nothing as he stood there like some sort of unfeeling statue as Sarah's pleading questions dabbled off into tears.

What was he going to say? That he and the others had stood by and watched as Max dragged the girls one-by-one out of the cave kicking and screaming for help? That instead of protesting they all just turned a blind eye and tried to ignore it the best they could? That if they had tried to protect any of the girls in any way from Max they would have ended up sharing the same fate? That Max literally had them by the balls and they couldn't do a damn thing to stop him least they end up ripped to shreds because they had pushed him too far?

He couldn't tell her any of that so he said nothing.

"You...bastards. You didn't do anything? Did you? You did nothing? They were killed and you guys did _nothing!_ " Sarah shrieked as she struggled to her feet, her hands shaking so badly that she could hardly get a firm grip on the bedpost beside her. Paul didn't respond. Instead he walked away because if he continued to stand there he might do something that he'd end up regretting big time.

" _You son-of-a-bitch! You'll let him kill me and you won't do a damn thing! I hate you! I HATE YOU!"_

Like most girls stuck in a terrifying situation that would most likely end in their ultimate demise at the hand of a dastardly undead tyrant, Sarah's actions were not all that surprising but still, Paul wasn't paying attention. He didn't see she coming. With an unearthly screech of pure loathing Sarah threw herself at Paul as he exited the cavern and his harsh cry of pain was what finally brought the others running.

"Whoa!" Marko yelped as he skidded sharply to a halt just as Dwayne ran right into him from behind. "Holy shit!"

Marko swore loudly as Paul was flung up against the rock wall with Sarah hanging onto his back with her teeth imbedded into his neck. There was blood everywhere.

"Get her off me!" Paul yelled as he tried to wrench the psychotic vampire off of him but Sarah viciously savaged his hand with her sharp nails as she went at him with tooth and claw, screaming profanity as she did so.

" _God damn you all! YOU WON'T DO A DAMN THING!"_

"Don't just stand there!" David shouted as he barrelled head-first into the fray, brushing past Dwayne and Marko as Paul tripped and landed on his face. Sarah went in for the killing strike and Paul had to block the attack with his arm. It hurt like hell when she bit him to the bone and shook her head like a dog, wrenching his arm from side-to-side. She had nothing left to lose and Paul was about to lose an arm if something didn't happen.

"Get her legs!" Dwayne growled to Marko as he stepped in after David. He and David coordinated their movements and struck at the same time from either side. Sarah screamed out something so foul at them both that he was slightly taken aback. When they couldn't wrench the girl off of Paul David grabbed her by the hair and yanked.

" _Bastard!_ " Sarah hissed in David's face as she struck like lightning, clawing the left side of his face with her nails before he could stop her. David's eyes went from ice cold to deadly as threw her over his shoulder with some serious force. Dwayne and Marko leapt past him and launched themselves onto the girl before she could rise to her feet. Despite the adrenalin rush and the rage, between the two of them, Dwayne and Marko finally managed to subdue Sarah while David hastily dragged Paul out of the chamber.

"Enough is enough." David growled under his breath as he carefully laid Paul on the wrecked four-poster bed that was shoved into a corner of the main cave. Paul snarled in pain as David ripped his jacket off in order to see what kind of damage Sarah had done. There was a lot of blood from numerous bites and deep scratches but Paul's wounds looked a lot worse than they really were. He'd be fine in a day or so.

"Damn that chick's psycho." Paul growled as David lifted his injured arm and peered closely at the circular gash near his elbow. With expert fingers David dug out half a fang that was embedded in Paul's arm. Both of them stared at it for a few seconds. David's face darkened as he flung the tooth away. Paul's eyes went wide when David reached down and snapped off a jagged piece of the busted wooden bed frame.

"Wait David..." Paul said as he struggled to sit up and quickly made a grab for David with his good arm, grabbing the edge of the vampire leader's trench coat as David turned to head back to the cavern. David must be crazy to even think of doing what Paul was thinking. Max would skin him alive.

"She knows man, she knows." Paul and David looked at one another for a moment and when David turned away from Paul once more, he dropped the make-shift stake. Paul let out an exhausted sigh as he flopped back onto the dusty bed while David stalked into the corridor, vanishing into the shadows.


	3. Kids In America

Chapter Three Theme Song: "Kids In America" by Kim Wilde

* * *

The Boardwalk was a giant mural of colours, sounds, smells, and emotions. People shifted and flowed like the tide as they meandered about their regular every-day lives, worrying about whatever it was they had to worry about on a late June evening. There was so much to see and so much to do. Everywhere you looked there was something going on. It was impossible to stand still for even a moment.

A vibrant group of tattooed punks were clustered in front of a tired looking thrift store, laughing raucously at the eager teenagers that edged past them with caution. Sarah kept her eyes downcast as she trudged towards the motley pack. Doing a decent job of blending in with the rest of the youthful crowd, Sarah pretended that she didn't see the judging stares and unfriendly eyes that followed her like tractor beams. It was only when she heard the group throw insults at another target did she slow down and relax a little.

She had made it through unscathed.

Sarah had been roaming the Boardwalk all night by herself after she had sworn to David that she wouldn't pull any stupid stunts nor "wander of"f into the night. It was clear from the moment when she awoke that the tension she felt between the boys wasn't her overactive imagination playing tricks on her. Something had them bothered and she was pretty sure that that something had to do with her. David and the others did not want her around tonight and she had been more than happy to get out of their hair. She could keep herself company while they did whatever it was that they wanted to do.

" _This is Carol Harper with a special news bulletin. Police Chief Clint Morton confirmed that last night's triple homicide is in fact linked to the string of murders and suspicious suicides that have taken place within the course last three weeks. Police Chief Morton did not mention if the killings were done by a singular individual or a group of potentially psychotic killers."_

Sarah stopped. A triple homicide? Had she heard that right?

A year old 12 inch television glowed brightly through the glass window of an electronics shop as the Late Night Santa Carla News aired live. A woman with a neatly style perm stared out from the screen as people walked right past the window without seeing or hearing what the anchor woman had to say. It was as if they couldn't hear the news...or maybe they didn't care.

" _Police Chief Morton did state that the incidents did occur between the hours of twelve am to four am and that the citizens of Santa Carla should be off the streets before midnight as a safety precaution. Mayor Grimshaw has yet to declare a city-wide curfew but if the murders continue, he will be forced to take drastic measures until the culprit or culprits are apprehended."_

"Damn." Sarah muttered softly to herself as she watched the anchor woman go on about the rise in town's crime and death rate as well as the epidemic of missing people that seemed to have risen drastically within the last six months. It was only a matter of time before someone began to connect the dots. Even though the boys were careful, people were starting to catch on that something was amiss.

Oh man, when Max found out he was not going to be happy.

Cringing at the thought, Sarah turned away from the window and quickly glanced up and down the crowded boardwalk. She couldn't decide where she should lay low for a little while in order to get away from the nerve wracking swarm of people. Without meaning to Sarah glanced in the punks direction and her far-away look caused a few of them to take notice. The thing about these guys was that they didn't like being gawked at.

"What're you lookin' at?" Growled a man with a shaven head and multiple facial piercings. He spat a wad of chewing tobacco in Sarah's direction.

The group cackled like a pack of hyenas as Sarah jumped in surprise. Caught completely off-guard she eyed the older punks with a guarded look. She knew better than to take the bait. Instead of responding she chewed on her lower lip, still at a loss as to what she should do next.

"What's the matter kid? You lost your mommy?" A girl with a fire-hydrant red Mohawk chewed nosily on a wad of chewing gum. Her pack mates snickered amongst each other as they watched the little scene unfold, eagerly expecting some fun in tormenting the confused girl who appeared to be a mute. "What? We're not good enough for you to talk to? Is that it? Huh? Hey girl I'm talkin' to you so look at me when I'm speakin'."

Sarah refused to say anything.

"Ya know somethin' Hank, I don't like the way this little brat is lookin' at me. She's got consorted eyes. I hate that." Red Head muttered out loud as she made a show of sizing Sarah up with her eyes. Her heavily painted lips curled into a cruel smirk as she cracked her knuckles. Each finger sported a hefty silver ring.

"It's conceited Meg. She's got conceited eyes not consorted." Hank, a guy with long black hair that was tied back with a black bandana, pointed out as he leaned against the wall of the thrift store looking completely bored by all this.

"Oh yeah? Shut your mouth." Meg snapped as she shot a filthy look at him. The guy just laughed at her and stuck his tattooed hands into the pockets of his studded leather jacket. This seemed to annoy Meg further. When Meg turned back to Sarah, the look on her face was anything but pleasant.

Sarah prepared to make a break for it because six against one wasn't a good odd, especially against six really tall people who looked like they meant business. She had to get away before they made a scene. Sarah curled her hands into tight fists within the pockets of her decked-out jean jacket, making sure that she never turned her back to the older girl.

David had taught her to never expose her back to a potential enemy. It finally looked like his never-ending lectures were starting to pay off. But David never told her what she should do if she found herself in a potentially dangerous situation while being out-numbered and in the public eye.

"Don't you go playin' little Miss Know-Nothin' with me missy. Your little daddy's girl act isn't foolin' anyone. You're no better than the rest of us but at least we got the balls to admit it." Meg hissed as she rounded on Sarah, getting in her face in order to force some sort of reaction out of the quiet girl.

"What's your problem?" Sarah finally spoke up. She lifted her chin and looked Meg in the eye.

Meg smiled venomously for a moment before she turned away from Sarah as if in disgust. However that was only a ploy because a split second later Meg whirled around like a scalded cat and slapped Sarah across the face.

Sarah hadn't seen it coming. She should have, but she hadn't.

"Twerps like you, that's my problem." Meg spat when Sarah blinked slowly as her eyes began to water. The guys laughed and whooped as they moved forward a bit to get a better view of the potential chick fight. Meg stepped back with a contempt look on her face as she waited for Sarah to come at her.

"Aww what's the matter? Is Daddy's Girl gonna cry now? Hmmm?" Meg jabbed and laughed along with the rest of the pack. Their laughter hurt more than the slap did and there was nothing Sarah could do to make it stop. If she ran now they would hound her. If she ever showed her face on the boardwalk again they would go out of their way to make her miserable. They were nothing but bullies, over-grown bullies.

 _I hate bullies._

Sarah lowered her hand from her face as she locked eyes with Meg. The hard glint in her brown eyes shut Meg up and the older girl narrowed her eyes in retaliation at having been challenged. She had pegged Sarah as being weak but now that the kid was finally starting to show some back-bone, Meg didn't have a choice. She had to give Little Miss Upstart a sound beating in order to save face, which shouldn't be too hard seeing that Sarah looked as if she never threw a punch in her life.

"Don't bother Meg, the kid's not worth it." Hank mumbled offhandedly as he pulled out a rumpled back of Camels and lit a cigarette. The others in the pack snickered as they kept their attention on Meg, waiting to see what she would do next. Instead of taking the sound advice Meg rolled her eyes.

"Yeah right." Meg whispered under her breath, out of earshot of everyone as she leisurely worked out the kink in her neck. "Show me what you got, if you have anything under that cheap get-up."

"Cheap?" Sarah flashed Meg a bright, toothy smile. "If you're going to intimidate someone, do it without chewing like a cow ok? You're not that scary."

Sarah laughed with more cheek than she really felt as she watched Meg's pale skin slowly redden.

"Oh, I am so gonna wipe the floor with your face Skipper." Meg hissed as she spat out the wad of chewing gum. The cheap stones of her rings glinting dangerously.

"I'd like to see you try you trashy whor..." Sarah spat back just as a hand grabbed her from behind. "...ore. Hey!"

Sarah turned around quickly to see who had grabbed her. She thought it was one of the guys who had arrived in the nick of time to bail her out. But it wasn't. A lean, shaggy-headed boy of about Sarah's age kept a firm grip on her arm as he pushed her behind him while he faced Meg and the pack.

"What...?" Sarah started but before she could get more than a word out a sharp, unfamiliar voice rang out from behind her. Sarah jumped when someone else popped up beside her as if out of thin air.

Where were these people coming from?

"Where the hell have you been? Huh? We've been lookin' all over for ya." A brown-haired girl snapped as she gave Sarah a look that told her to shut it and shut it good. Sarah didn't object. The girl must have been about fifteen years old but from the way she was dressed, Sarah got the feeling that whoever she was, she wasn't someone that Sarah wanted to argue with. Well not right then anyway.

"What's this? The Mouseketeers have come out to play tonight? How cute." Meg said as she gave the two new arrivals a lazy once-over. The odds had just changed but not by much.

"Save it for someone who cares." The boy grumbled as he flicked his unruly bangs out of his eyes. He never once broke eye contact with Meg. His persistent hard-core staring had started to creep the punk out and that was the only reason why she didn't rearrange his face with those sharp rings of hers right then and there.

"Beat it kid. This doesn't concern you or that clap-trap of yours." The bald guy broke in as he spat out a wad of tobacco juice onto the dirty pavement.

"Didn't your mom ever tell you that you spit like a camel? Wait, my bad. You never had a mother. It shows." The brown-haired girl sassed as she scratched her chin with her middle finger, flipping him the bird.

"Shut up Tory." Muttered the boy quietly under his breath as the bald punk rose from the curb and made his way over to Meg's side.

"Make me Ian." Tory smiled pleasantly at the bald guy just to spite the hell out of him.

"Excuse me but...who are you?" Sarah asked quietly as she looked from the quiet boy to the spunky girl who stood between her and the street waifs.

"Zip it. You got us into enough trouble already." Tory growled over her shoulder, giving Sarah an accusing glare before she turned back to her bald nemesis.

"What?" Sarah gave Tory a look of disbelief. The boy's grip on her arm tightened slightly and Sarah noticed that boy and Tory had suddenly frozen to the spot as they stared wide-eyed at something behind the group of punks.

"Shit, the cops." Ian muttered just loud enough so that the punks heard him.

"Crap!" Meg swore as she spun around at the same time the rest of her group did to see how close the police were. While they were distracted, Tory grabbed Sarah's other arm and before Sarah could protest, the two teens practically dragged her behind them as they ran for it.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing!" Sarah yelped as Tory yanked her forward while angry voices sounded out behind them.

"Saving your ass so move it!" Tory shouted over her shoulder as she pushed Sarah ahead of her while Ian led the way, zigzagging through the dense crowd while the punks shouted curses at them.

"Get back here you twerps! You are so dead!"

The punks chased after them but as the trio wormed their way deeper into the slow-moving crowd, the bigger teens had a harder time trying to barrel they way through. Precious seconds were gained as Sarah ran after the boy blindly while Tory egged her on, bringing up the rear.

"Ian! Ian the comic book store!" Tory hollered above the blaring music that was coming from the loud speakers that were set up near the small building complex. Ian didn't have to be told twice and he charged into the comic book store with Sarah and Tory hot on his heels. The three of them dove behind a shelf of Marvel comics just as the punks appeared outside the store's wide doorway, looking left and right to see if they could spot them.

"Do you mind?" A gruff voice asked as a pair of scuffed combat boots appeared beside Ian. Ian brushed his bangs out of his eyes and looked up to see a scruffy-looking blonde teenager with a red bandana tied around his head, Rambo style, looking down at him with a serious expression on his face. Ian jerked his head to the side and the teen just nodded his head. He eyed the pack out of the corner of his eye, giving nothing away.

"Hey you, cue ball! Yeah you! You owe me $6.50 from the comics you stole." Edgar Frog growled loudly as he headed toward the front of the store just as Alan, his younger brother by a year, appeared out of the back room with an identical scowl on his face.

Tory gave Ian the sign of the devil and the two high-fived each other as they listened to Meg and the others wander off muttering empty threats under their breath. Sarah let out a sigh of relief and leaned back against the bottom of the comic shelf as she looked at Ian and Tory for a moment.

"Ok. Who are you guys?" She asked again while she stood up and straightened out her jacket.

"I'm Ian and that loud-mouth is Victoria." Ian said with a lopsided grin as Tory punched him on the arm.

"How many times have I told you, my name is Tory." Tory growled.

"I meant to say Tory." Ian said as he bent over and picked up one of the Captain America comics that they had accidentally knocked onto the floor when they had dived for cover.

"So are you guys brother and sister or something?" Sarah asked as she got a better look at the two who had just saved her from one hell of an ass kicking. Ian was taller than her, everyone was taller than her, and was on the skinny side despite his height. It looked like he hadn't had a square meal in weeks. The battered leather bomber jacket that he wore looked like it had gone through the Second World War and his threadbare jeans were in similar condition. The hefty Doc Martin boots looked like they had come from an army surplus store, which they probably had, but they suited him despite his scrawny build. He looked like the average Santa Carla street kid which was probably why Sarah had not spotted him before hand. He blended perfectly with the background along with everyone else in the downtown core.

Tory was about her height but managed to pull off the tough tomboy look whereas Sarah came across about as intimidating as a show poodle despite her new wardrobe. Tory's worn leather biker jacket had a snarling black panther painted on the back and Sarah wondered to herself if Tory had gotten the cat done by the same artist who had painted the leopard on Dwayne's jacket. The rest of her outfit was simple; cuffed jeans, an oversized sweater with the Stray Cats logo scrawled across the front and just a smug of red lipstick finished the look.

"Nah, we're just friends." Tory said as she playfully shoved Ian into the book shelf and smiled innocently. "So what about you? You got a name?"

"My name? ...Uhh...," Sarah stammered, not sure if she should give them her real name. She had seen a few Missing Persons flyers around town with her picture and information on them and if Ian and Tory ever managed to put two-and-two together things would get really awkward. What had David told her about using false name in public?

Looking about wildly for a source of inspiration, Sarah spied an old Disney Peter Pan comic half-hidden behind one of those Betty and Veronica double-digest comics. She blurted out the first thing that popped into her head.

"Betty. I'm Betty." Sarah said with an awkward smile while Tory gave her a skeptical look. "What can I say? My mother was a burlesque fan?"

"Mind telling us what that was all about?" Edgar Frog cut in as he and Alan headed over to the group, walking tall and looking extremely satisfied with themselves.

"Ian decided that he had to be the good Samaritan again. We had to bail out twinkle toes here from getting her face rearranged by those guys." Tory spoke up as she jerked her thumb at Sarah. When Edgar and Alan looked at her, Sarah just shrugged her shoulders and gave them a sheepish look.

"You new?" Alan asked in his deadpan voice as he stared hard at Sarah for a few moments which kind of made her feel uncomfortable. It was as if he could see right through her and suspected something.

"Yeah. It really shows huh?" Sarah nodded her head as she lowered her eyes so that she wouldn't have to look at his expressionless face.

"You were lucky. It could have been worse." Edgar said as he looked at Alan and nodded.

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked curiously as Alan brush past her to pick out a comic from the various stacks that were behind them.

"Oh brother, not this again." Tory muttered as she crossed her arms and nudged Sarah with her shoulder. "These guys think that Michael Jackson and his horde of dancing zombies roam the Boardwalk at night."

"You serious?" Sarah asked as she looked at the Frog brothers and was slightly taken aback by their dark scowls off annoyance as Tory chuckled to herself.

"Zombies are found in Louisiana but vampires love the night life in this place." Alan said as he handed Sarah a comic that had a snarling vampire on the cover. Sarah looked at the grizzly comic book and wrinkled her nose.

"Ewww. Vampires don't look like this." She handed the comic back to Alan and rubbed her hands together as if she had touched something filthy.

"Oh? Have you ever seen a real vampire?" Edgar asked sarcastically, the gruffness of his voice deepening a bit as he looked at her.

"Well no...but in all the vampire movies none of the vampires have teeth that big. Like, if they did, how are they supposed to close their mouths? It makes no sense." Sarah stated off-handedly, trying to make it seem that she wasn't lying through her teeth.

"You'd be surprised at how many mistakes are made in monster movies." Alan responded as he and his brother exchanged a look before he placed the comic on the nearest shelf.

"Well duh, it's Hollywood. It's not real. I agree with Betty. Do you honestly think that Bela Lugosi would have looked scary with a pair of plastic ten inch fangs? He would have looked ridiculous. I can't believe you guys actually believe in this vampire stuff. You two seriously need a new hobby."

"You watch Bela Lugosi movies?" Sarah asked Tory, who nodded.

"Who doesn't? The man's a classic. No one plays Dracula as well as he does." Tory said and despite themselves, Edgar and Alan found themselves nodding in agreement to what Tory said. They stopped when they realized what they were doing though.

"I don't know about you guys but Lon Chaney is my favorite. The Wolf Man is the best monster ever portrayed. Talbot is this great guy who ends up becoming a werewolf because he tried to do the right thing and his own father ends up killing him. Just because he turns into a werewolf at night and has no control over himself. That doesn't make him an evil person. He's still the same kind-hearted man only..." She said before Edgar cut her off.

"Only he has a problem in the man-eating department." He and Alan exchanged knowing smirks. Girls, they always try to sugar-coat the obvious. "Listen Betty, there is no such thing as a "good monster." You show me a good monster and I'll show you a shotgun loaded with silver or a nice sharp stake."

"All monsters are evil and it's up to people like us, the ones who have what it takes, to make sure that their evil is destroyed for the betterment of mankind. Don't worry; we know what we're doing. We're professionals." Alan stated in a cock-sure voice that made Sarah uneasy.

"Oh grow up will you?" Sarah muttered bitterly before she shouldered her way past Edgar and headed for the entrance while everyone watched her go.

"Tell me again Alan, have either of you ever seen a vampire much less killed one?" Tory asked the brothers, who didn't respond. "Yeah, I thought so. A right pair of "monster hunters" you guys are. Anyways I'm not wasting the rest of my night in here so I'll see you two Helsing-wannabes later."

Tory gave them a mock military salute and nodded to Ian to follow her as she too left the comic store.

"Girls, they think they know everything." Edgar growled as Ian laughed.

"Got that right. Anyways, I'll see you guys later okay? If I let Tory go wandering around on her own, she'll end up picking a fight with a biker gang or something. See you."

Ian waved over his shoulder before he slipped past a pair of chattering girls who were gossiping about the latest high school love affair. Without either girl knowing, Ian carefully picked the red-head's pocket and made off with her wallet while she continued to talk her friend's ear off.

It didn't take Ian long to spot Tory and Sarah standing by the ring toss booth as they made sarcastic remarks about the Frog brothers and their mental capabilities. Ian palmed the ten bucks he got off the girl in the comic store and tossed her empty wallet into the nearest trash can before he approached the girls.

"Are you kidding me? They actually think that the mayor of Santa Carla is a werewolf?" Sarah exclaimed as Tory nodded her head.

"Yep. Ask Ian if you don't believe me. I'm telling you their mother must have smoked some whacky weed when she was pregnant with them and that's why they turned out the way they did." Tory said as she smiled at Ian as he walked over to them. "Ian you have a knack of meeting the strangest people around here."

"Yeah I know. I've never been the same after running into you." Ian ducked Tory's playful swipe. "So, who's hungry? My treat."

He waved the ten dollar bill in front of Tory's face and flicked it away as she tried to make a grab for it.

"Where did you get ten bucks? I thought you said you were broke." Tory said as she gave Ian an accusing look, one that he made a point to ignore.

"Let's just say a random vampire handed it to me because he had no use for it. After all, it's not like vampires can eat cotton candy." He said and Tory visibly brightened at the aspect of being able to satisfy her sweet tooth.

"Got that right. C'mon, I just realized how hungry I am." Tory said as she snatched the ten dollar bill out of Ian's hand and ran towards the cotton candy vendor, crowing victoriously as she did so.

"You coming?" Ian asked Sarah when she stayed where she was, staring in Tory's direction with a look of longing in her eyes.

"I don't think so. I'll just end up getting you guys into trouble." Sarah said as she gnawed on a fingernail. She knew full well what would happen if David or the others ever found out that she was hanging out with normal teenagers. They wouldn't think twice about tearing Ian and Tory to shreds.

"It's all right. You guys have fun. I have to go anyways." Sarah gave Ian an apologetic look.

Ian watched her for a moment before he grabbed her by the hand and headed to where Tory was.

"You can go later. And despite what you might think you could never get us into as much trouble as Tory can so we'll call it even." Ian grinned before he lowered his voice to a whisper. "But don't tell her I said that."

Sarah didn't resist Ian but she was uneasy despite the fact that she was letting herself to be led away by a complete stranger. A complete human stranger.

"What took you two so long? I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to eat all this by myself." Tory said as she handed Ian the change while holding a huge cone covered in pink floss.

"Anyways," she began before she tore off a chunk and swallowed it, "race you guys to the Dipper. Last one there buys the drinks."

With that Tory took off like a shot while still holding the cone carefully as she neatly side-stepped a line of neatly parked motorcycles and accidentally knocked a guy into them as she ran past.

Ian and Sarah exchanged a look before Ian raised his eyebrows.

"Hey! Is that Corey Haim?" He said as he squinted.

"Corey? Oh my god where!" Sarah spun around and looked about wildly as Ian laughed and ran for it.

"Hey! That's not fair!" Sarah cried as she chased after Ian. Tory was the first one to make it to the roller coaster but Ian was the last. It was times like these when it paid off to have certain vampire abilities.


	4. Rooster

**Author's Note: Word of caution whenever the character Lincoln makes an appearance. He is a giant trigger warning. He's lewd, crude, obscene, insane, and profane. He will offend delicate sensibilities and push boundaries. This guys does not play nice nor by any rules. This story is rated Mature for a very good reason. Enjoy!**

Chapter Theme Song: "Rooster" by Alice In Chains

* * *

"Man this blows." Paul tossed the dog-eared Rolling Stones magazine that he had been leafing through onto the floor and sighed, completely bored out of his mind. They had all gone out at sundown to feed and after they had cut down a few of the mindless flock David had ordered them all back to the cave where they had been hanging around doing absolutely nothing since.

"What a waste of a perfectly good night. There were at least three decent parties going on and I didn't even get to check one out. Tell me again why we're here and not out doing something with our lives? And how come Sarah got to leave?" Paul complained as he adjusted his position so that his head was hanging off the side of the battered old couch that he was sprawled across. The injuries that he had sustained the night before were no longer an issue and seeing that this was a "kid sister" free evening it annoyed Paul to no end that he had to spend it cooped up in a cave with absolutely nothing to do.

"Argh I'm so bored man."

"Paul, you ask me that one more time I'm gonna ram this wrench down your throat." Dwayne muttered darkly as he gave the torque wrench a sharp tug, making sure the part he was fixing was firmly secured. His motorcycle was standing upright beside the red tower tool box that housed just about every hand-held tool that he would ever need to keep his bike and the others in perfect working condition.

"But I'm bored. I shouldn't be bored. I hate being bored." Paul whined and dug into his back pocket to pull out a crushed pack of Marlboros. Unearthing a red lighter from between the ripped cushions of the couch Paul shook the cigarette carton and cursed loudly when it come up empty.

"Fuck it!" He growled as he tossed the empty carton away without a thought and rolled off the couch.

"Paul, what are you doing?" Dwayne asked without bothering to look up. He grabbed an oily rag and began to clean away the dirt build-up on the bike's engine.

"Goin' outside to hang myself and see what happens." Paul muttered as he stalked past in a mood. He lashed out with his foot, sending a piece of broken molding skidding across the dirty floor.

"Use aircraft cable and tell me how it goes." Dwayne responded calmly as he twisted the tip of the rag and tried to get at those hard to reach places. He missed Paul's crude gesture but looked up momentarily when David walked into the cave from the narrow side tunnel that led to the smaller caves deep within in the cliff face.

"Is she back yet?" David asked as he scanned the cave with a swift glance.

"Why the hell do you care?" Paul snorted in disbelief as he picked his way towards the mouth of the cave. Dwayne gave the potential situation a once over before he went back to cleaning his bike without saying a word. David glared at Paul with such an intense look that it wiped the wise-ass smirk off the head-banger's face.

"What is it this time?" Dwayne asked evenly as he put down the rag and picked up an oil can without even bothering to look up. Despite his mild attempt to diffuse the situation it didn't do him any good, as he figured it wouldn't. When Paul was cranky like this it took only the slightest thing to set him off and when that happened the guy wouldn't shut up until the sun came up.

David frowned before he shook his head.

"Nothing. Just let me know when she gets back." He muttered as he headed to the back of the cave, moving as if he had some sort of dark cloud looming over his head. This caught Dwayne's full attention and he studied David out of the corner of his eye, his usual brooding expression darkening somewhat.

"Whoa, hang on a sec man. Why are you suddenly interested in the twerp? It's not like you care cause if you did then I'd have to say that you're pretty messed in the head David. And you know I'm right." Paul pointed out as he leaned against the mouth of the cave and crossed his arms, his attitude serious for once.

"For once I agree with Paul. You know it's hopeless. I don't know what Max was thinking when he turned her but it's only a matter of time before it happens. Just accept it and move on. Remember it's the only choice we have." Dwayne reminded David, not at all bothered by what he was hinting at.

"Yeah, what he said." Paul quipped as he motioned to Dwayne with a jerk of his thumb when David turned around to face them both.

"That's just the thing boys, there's something about this that doesn't make any sense. Dwayne, you noticed too that Sarah will never be like us. Max isn't stupid, god I wish he were, but we all know from experience just how smart he is. He would have seen that turning her would have been pointless. He would never waste his time on something like this yet he did it anyways. Why?" David asked aloud as he mulled over a thought.

"Why? Cause he's a royal prick and wanted to annoy the hell outta us that's why." Paul sneered.

Dwayne rolled his eyes and didn't bother to comment on Paul's remark but he thought about what David said. Maybe David was on to something? He hadn't seen it before because he hadn't been bothered enough to care all that much about the kid. But now that David brought it up, Dwayne realized that there was something amiss .

Paul however thought that David needed a reality check.

"You're putting way too much thought into this David. Max was bored one night, had nothing better to do and figured that he could throw a monkey wrench at us in order to have an excuse to beat our skulls in whenever he felt like it. He's just up to his old tricks again. The kid is nothing more than a test to see how long we can last before we screw up. Man you're seeing daggers in a friggin' handshake."

Dwayne remained silent as he carefully polished the engine. He was careful to keep the chrome unmarked as he switched the oily rag with a clean one. "The others, they could have made it. But her, she'll be dead within the month. You think he's up to something?"

"Aw man not you too." Paul groaned and quickly ducked when a rock flew at him from Dwayne's direction. "

You missed sucka!" He smirked proudly as he adjusted his jacket.

"Paul sometimes I wonder how you've ever managed to make it this far while being so nearsighted." David massaged his temples and sat down on the edge of the crumbling fountain basin. Dwayne shook slightly with silent laughter as Paul's smirk turned right around into an offended pout.

"Hey man I can see perfectly." He stated with indignation as he glared at Dwayne.

"Oh yeah? How many fingers am I holding up?" Dwayne asked with mock curiosity as he held up his right arm and flexed his middle finger. Even David could not resist a chuckle at Paul's expense. The expression on the pot-head's face was priceless.

"Ha ha. Funny Dwayne, real funny." Paul bristled as Dwayne laughed and went back to cleaning his bike, leaving Paul to stew in his own juices for a bit. He could not have resisted the temptation. It was just too easy to piss Paul off and when the situation presented itself Dwayne couldn't say no.

"He must have done it for a reason but hell if I can figure it out. It's really starting to piss me off. I hate being in the dark when it comes to Max" Both Paul and Dwayne put their silent nit-picking on hold for a minute as they watched David as he got up and paced the cave in one direction and then another, muttering to himself under his breath. "I'm missing something here...what am I missing? Damn it!"

"Listen man, just challenge Max already and get it over with. You want him out of Santa Carla, we want him out of Santa Carla, hell even the kid wouldn't mind sending a few shots his way. Let's just ambush him one night and kill that mother once and for all." Paul carelessly slid down the steep ramp of rubble, sending a few loose rocks skittering after him. "Trust me on this one David, you'll sleep better."

He landed neatly on his toes with all the grace of cat. He bent over and snatched up a jagged piece of wood and tossed it at David to emphasize his words. "I told you before; it's all a test man."

David caught the make-shift stake one-handed and pitched it over his shoulder without thinking twice about it.

"Paul, that has to be the dumbest thing you've said all night." He stated flatly as he took off his gloves and shoved them into the deep pockets of his trench coat.

"Well excuse me for trying to be the voice of reason around here." Paul snapped, annoyed once again over the fact that no one ever took him seriously.

"Paul you don't have a reasonable bone in your body." Dwayne commented as he finished cleaning the right side of his bike and rose to his feet so that he could continue working on the other side.

"Yeah so?"

"Go hang yourself." Was all Dwayne had to say as he reached into his toolbox and began to search through the shelves for a different sized wrench.

"Bite me." Paul shot back as he picked up the discarded Rolling Stones magazine and whipped it like a frizzbee straight into the back of Dwayne's head.

" _Is that an invitation?_ "

The two yellow and red surf boards that were propped up against the cave wall came crashing down when Paul staggered into them by accident. Dwayne paused just as he was about to throw a hammer that he had randomly grabbed from the tool box. David snapped out of his thoughts and stood.

Standing by a rusted oil barrel that was the closest to the cave entrance was a leather clad figure that had caught all three vampires by surprise. Literally.

"Who the hell are you?" Paul demanded as he tried not to trip over the cumbersome yellow surf board that had landed on his foot.

David carefully studied the ageless biker that stood with his back to the group while he warmed his hands by the crackling barrel fire that Dwayne had lit at the start of the evening.

"Howdy boys." The stranger said as he slowly turned his head to the side, a grin that could have put a gargoyle to shame etched onto his deeply scarred and stubbled face. He clapped his hands together over the flames and the sound rang out like a muffled gun shot before he unearthed a half-smoked Cuban cigar from a hidden pocket and lit it while the three looked on.

"Lincoln." David clasped his hands behind his back.

That wicked jackal-like grin grew a few inches with pleasure as he cocked an eyebrow and looked the pack leader in the eye.

"Miss me?"

"You know this guy?" Paul interrupted as he gave Lincoln a critical once over and didn't like what he saw.

The guy looked like the corpse of a love child between a Hell's Angel and a greaser. There was something off about the way he carried himself that told Paul that whoever he was, he was trouble. And Paul should know seeing that his middle name was trouble with a capital T.

"In a way." David eyes remained locked with the grinning road warrior.

"Shoo, is that any way you treat your own brother Davey? And here I was thinkin' you'd have eased up by now. Looks like nothin's changed in twenty years," Lincoln tisked as he exhaled a pungent cloud of smoke. He tapped the end of the cigar with his finger in order to knock the ashes off its tip and paused a moment.

"Well, almost nothin'. Don't recollect seein' you boys before." He mused before he chomped down on the cigar.

"Brother? I don't see the resemblance." Dwayne stated dryly as he placed the hammer back in the toolbox. When he did he carefully palmed a folded switchblade that was sitting beside a box of screws and slid the knife up into his sleeve before he turned around and slowly walked toward David.

"Course you don't. Brothers by blood baby!" Lincoln said with a flourish of his cigar as his eyes grew a little colder and his smile became somewhat sinister.

Paul glanced at David for orders as he remained where he was, about an arms length from Lincoln as Dwayne casually positioned himself on David's right. None of the vampires were stupid enough to think that this was just some coincidental meet and greet.

"What do you want Lincoln?" David asked flatly, keeping his face as unreadable as possible.

"Want? Hell I don't want nothin'. I was in town so I figured that I'd drop by and see what's been goin' on around here without me. Place sure hasn't changed much." Lincoln chuckled as he walked past Paul and nudged him out of the way with his shoulder. Paul's eyes flickered dangerously but he held himself in check. He did notice a partially hidden bowie knife that was hooked to Lincoln's belt.

Why a bowie knife?

"Hang on a sec, ain't there supposed to be four of you?" Lincoln asked as he turned away from the black and white Jim Morrison poster that was staring down at them from the far wall.

Dwayne and Paul swiftly exchange a hidden look.

"How would you know that?"

"Word gets around pretty quick on the east coast. Looks like you boys have been makin' quite a name for yourselves. That ain't necessarily a good thing neither." Lincoln shrugged as he puffed away on his cigar, his eyes working their way around the cave as he took stock of everything.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Dwayne growled when Lincoln spent a little too much time eyeing his bike.

" _Not now_." David mentally nudged Dwayne.

The dark-haired vampire didn't answer him but when David heard Dwayne growl faintly he knew that his words were understood.

"You bring too much attention to yourselves and old Max is gonna get right pissed at you boys. And you all know what happens when Max gets like that." Lincoln knocked a new batch of ashes into one of the tool box's shelves before he meandered his way over to the couch. "You boys keep goin' on the way you are now and you'll be joinin' me soon enough."

"How do you figure?" Paul had to step over the fallen surf boards in order to get closer to the couch. There was no way he was going to give this guy any space.

"Well it's pretty simple ain't it? I know for a fact that I wasn't the only one who got the boot from old Max." Lincoln chuckled as he sat himself down onto David's personal chair as if he owned the place.

"You were exiled by Max?" Dwayne asked despite himself. If this Lincoln character was to be believed then he had been exiled by Max. Had Max turned him? And if he did then why wasn't this old hat? There was something important that was not being said here and it didn't look like David was going to be the one to let the cat out of the bag.

"You never told them did ya David?" Lincoln grinned as he twirled the stubby cigar between his fingers. He knew full well that his name had never been mentioned to Paul and Dwayne by either David or Max.

"Tell us what?" Paul said he looked at David for some form of guidance.

"Up until now I thought you were dead Lincoln. I thought Max finished you off the night you caused that massacre at the train yard." When David finally spoke up he calmly took out a cigarette from an inner pocket and lit it, ignoring the imploring and confused looks from the other two while Lincoln watched them all.

"Ya still remember that night do ya? Man that was somethin'. A real work of art. One of my finest." Lincoln blew a perfect smoke ring and watched the round cloud of smoke drift off into nothingness.

"You almost exposed us with that little stunt of yours." David gave the rouge vampire an almost accusing look.

"Almost David, but I didn't now did I?" Lincoln stated with a wave of his cigar while still looking up.

"That's besides the point." David retorted as he offered his cigarette to Dwayne.

"Nah, I don't think it is." Lincoln mused as he lazily lifted his head and squinted at David. "Ya see David, Max was just about ready to butcher my ass but for some reason he didn't. If he had I wouldn't be here talkin' to you but I'm sure you boys figured that out already by yourselves."

"Then how did you get away?" Paul scoffed. This guy had to be shooting the shit because they all knew that if Max wanted you dead, you ended up dead.

"I didn't." Lincoln's voice went flat and the grin vanished from his face."You see boys when you break the rules you deal with the consequences. And well, I broke the rules. I broke just about every damn one of them and enjoyed every minute of it. But no matter how smart you think you are, or how fast you think you are or how strong you think you are, there's always someone else who can kick your head in as sure as a whore's got hells teeth."

The tone of those words made the hairs on Paul's neck stand on end. Dwayne tensed under Lincoln's dead-pan stare and the two stared at one another before David shifted slightly to the side so that he subtly placed himself between the two in order to divert their attention elsewhere.

"I heard what you were sayin' before, about doin' Max in. It'll never work." Lincoln said with a slow shake of his head.

"Oh yeah? And how would you know?" Paul muttered darkly as he shifted uneasily. Who was this guy? Why was he telling them all this? Something didn't feel right and it made Paul nervous.

"Cause my metal-head friend, I already tried that. And look at what it got me. A one-way ticket to shit-stompin' hell." Lincoln sneered as he leaned forward in the chair and put out the cigar by grinding the smoldering end into the battered arm of the three-seater couch.

"I thought you'd feel right at home there."

David was all sarcasm.

"Yeah I thought so too. But twenty years under the boot of one of the meanest mother-fuckers in the good ol' U S of A will just about turn anyone's head right around." Lincoln bit off the burnt end of his cigar and toss what remained in David's direction.

"Or you could just be seriously messed in the head." Paul watched Lincoln chew the ashy tobacco with a mildly disgusted look.

Lincoln smirked as he made a show of savouring the burnt leaves.

"You're right on the money with that one slick. Right on the money, money, money." The serious attitude that he had taken on now a thing of the past, as if it never happened, and that creepy grin made another appearance.

"Which reminds me, where's that little piece of jail bait you got runnin' around here?" He snapped his fingers as he remembered what it was that he had wanted to ask David in the first place.

"Say what?" That was something that none of them had been expecting, David included.

Lincoln rose of the chair and inhaled sharply, his head tilted slightly to the side as he did so.

"She ain't here. I thought you was supposed to watch her. Max's orders if I ain't mistaken." He raised both eyebrows as he tisked David under his breath. "C'mon David, you gettin' soft on me now?"

"What do you want Lincoln. I won't ask you again."

"Dave there's not need to get all defensive on me now. All I want to know is if she's here. Or did she make another break for it?" Lincoln said as he raised his hands to placate David as he glanced at Dwayne and Paul. "Looks like you boys have quite the wild child on your hands. Does Max know?"

"If we do it's no business of yours." Dwayne growled as he came up behind David, making it clear that he was ready and willing to send Lincoln packing at David's signal.

"Now that I beg to differ. It just so happens that it is my business." Lincoln tucked the tobacco wad into the corner of his mouth so that he could speak properly without having his words muffled.

"Oh really?" Paul asked none too politely as he glanced over his shoulder for a moment when he felt a cold brush of air behind him. Seeing nothing he turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin when he came face to face with Lincoln who stood about two inches away from him.

"Shit!" He stumbled back a few steps as the corners of Lincoln's eyes creased as he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

"You can ask all you want but that don't mean I'm gonna give you an answer. That wouldn't be practical now would it?" He grinned dangerously as chewed on the tobacco wad.

"Yeah, you're one to talk." Paul glared a warning at Lincoln as Dwayne growled behind David and had to be shoved back by David when he tried to get close to Paul.

"You. I know you. You must be Paul." A bright smile lit up Lincoln's face as he slapped Paul on the back and rested his arm on his shoulders as if they were life-long friends. "Max said you was an idiot but I gave you the benefit of a doubt. Looks like I shouldn't have bothered."

"If I _was_ you I'd watch my mouth you piss-drinking redneck." Paul spat as he grabbed Lincoln by the front of his leather jacket.

"Paul, stop it." David commanded but Paul didn't listen. The antagonizing grin on Lincoln's face was making his blood boil and Paul was just itching to knock it clean off with a decent shot to the head.

"Paul!" David snapped but Lincoln cut him off before he could say more.

"Ya know that's exactly what your momma said when I...," Lincoln sneered.

"I told you to watch it." Paul snarled as he brought his face to Lincoln's, his blue eyes shifting to blazing yellow.

Instead of backing off like any sane vampire would, Lincoln just cocked his head and grinned like an idiot.

"Ya know you're mighty cute when you're angry. Bet your boyfriend would agree." He whispered loudly and winked suggestively just to add some salt to the wound.

"You crossed the line on that one pal." Paul's face went from human to vampire. Lincoln giggled.

"Paul let him go!" David snapped but neither vampire bothered to listen as they stood toe to toe, waiting to see who would be the first to make a move.

"Already? Shoot, I ain't even warmed up yet." Lincoln puckered his lips and blew Paul a kiss.

"Things are going to get a lot warmer by the time I'm done with you."

"Is that a promise you intend on keepin' boy? Cause I just hate it when people make promises they don't keep." Lincoln purred and broke Paul's grip on his jacket as he danced back a few steps.

"Paul back off. _Now Paul_!"

For a moment it seemed like Paul was going to listen to David's command but when Lincoln snapped his fingers and spat the wad of tobacco onto Paul's boots, Paul lost it.

"Son of a bitch!" Paul snarled as he leapt at Lincoln with his arm raised.

"No Paul!"

Lincoln grinned at David before Paul closed the distance between the two of them. He landed a blow to Lincoln's head that would have knocked a carthorse to its knees. Lincoln didn't bother to resist as he went down like a ton of bricks. Paul got in a few more shots as the two tussled on the cave floor and every time Paul laid into Lincoln, the guy just laughed for more.

"Is that all you got? Shoo boy you hit like preacher's daughter. Do it again, I'm getting' a hard-on here." Lincoln howled as Paul grabbed him by the neck and yanked him to his feet, shaking him as hard as he could.

"Paul stop it! Damn it Paul, that's enough!" David roared above the noise but other than that he made no move to physically separate the two.

"Quit shoutin' an' join us David. We'll make it a threesome. Junior here sure could learn a thing or two." Lincoln called to David just before a stout left hook from Paul knocked him down on his ass.

"Why don't I teach you a few things huh?" Paul growled as he lashed out with his right foot and kicked Lincoln in the ribs once, twice, three times.

"Yeah, I could do with a lesson in givin' head." Lincoln scoffed.

Paul let out a shriek of outrage and redoubled his efforts to cause as much pain to the vampire as physically possible. Yet no matter how hard he hit or how many times he punted Lincoln across the cave like a football the guy just laughed and roared for more.

"I think you missed a spot." Lincoln pointed out as Paul picked him up and threw him head first into the busted chandelier.

"There now doesn't that feel good?" Lincoln chuckled as he gingerly untangled himself from the twisted brass tine. He inspected a new tear in his leather jacket as Paul circled him, breathing hard. David watched the temporary truce with a stony face while Dwayne flicked the switchblade into his hand and waited until Paul looked his way before he tossed the knife to him.

"Not as good as this will." Paul snarled wickedly as he reached out and caught the folded knife.

 _Snikt!_

The razored blade flicked into existence as Paul whirled sharply on his heels, wielding the knife with an expert hand.

"So you want a lesson in giving head huh?" He taunted dangerously as he made a suggestive gesture with the knife. Its meaning come across loud and clear.

Lincoln eyed the knife for a second before he shifted his stance so that his arms were hanging loosely by his sides.

"You gonna stand there all night and tease me boy?" His voice was soft as he lowered his head slightly but never broke eye contact. Lincoln's face shifted instantaneously, the scars that run deep across his face became more prominent along the brow line of his forehead. "Let's get it on then. Uncle Billy's waitin'!"

Paul flew into action at the same instant Lincoln did. A massive blur of colour and two separate roars were uttered as the two collided into each-other head on with such force that they repelled across the cave. It took less than a quarter of a second and then it was over.

Dwayne and David stayed put as they waited to see what damage had been done. Lincoln lay on his side in a daze while Paul had this look of startled surprise on his face.

"Paul?" Dwayne called out softly.

Paul's legs buckled.

"God..." Paul wheezed before he dared to look down. "Oh shit."

"Fuck, Paul!"

David's outstretched arm forced Dwayne to step back.

"Paul's hurt!" Dwayne snarled as the heavy copper scent of Paul's blood filled the cave,

" _Stay where you are!_ " David roared at him and Dwayne was so taken aback he was too slow to prevent getting his legs swept out from under him. David planted his foot on Dwayne's chest and pinned him to the ground while Lincoln slowly got to his feet.

"David..."Paul whimpered before he folded inwards and fell forward, curling into a ball as he wrapped his arms over his abdomen as tightly as he could.

"Ya did warn him David."

Lincoln yanked out the switchblade that was embedded four inches deep between his ribs. Paul had nailed him close enough to the heart that Lincoln was mildly impressed. However his aim was off by a few inches.

"Leave." David commanded with a voice as cold as ice as he glared at Lincoln. If looks could kill Lincoln would have been dead before he knew what hit him.

Lincoln nodded his head once as he tossed the switchblade into the fire-lit barrel and wiped his hand on his jacket. David's eyes narrowed into slits as he watched Lincoln pick his bowie knife off the ground and lick one side of the gore-covered blade before he wiped the rest of Paul's blood off on his jeans, leaving a thick streak of dark red across his thigh.

"That there is one stupid-ass vampire David. He couldn't even see it comin'." Lincoln snorted as he pointed the bowie knife at David and smiled crookedly. "It ain't personal David. Just doin' my damned job. I'll be seeing ya around."

Lincoln sheathed the knife and without missing a beat flew out of the cave with a gust of wind. The faint traces of his sadistic laughter where left trailing after him.


	5. House of the Rising Sun

**Chapter Theme Song:** "House of the Rising Sun" by The Animals

* * *

"Fuck it David let me up!" Dwayne snapped at the vampire leader but it was only when Lincoln's presence was truly gone did David release Dwayne and stepped back.

"What the hell the matter with you?" Dwayne shot David a dark look before hurrying over to Paul's side. "Easy man. Try not to move. Where'd he get you? _That son of a bitch!_ "

He hissed sharply when he saw just what Lincoln had done. The entire left side of Paul's abdomen from his kidney to his navel was laid open with a single gash that was deep enough to cut through the abdominal wall and expose his internal organs.

Basically, to put it plainly, Lincoln gutted Paul like a goddamn fish. The sight was gut-wrenching.

"How bad is it?" David asked quietly. To his credit he didn't flinch when Dwayne nailed him with a filthy glare.

"Why don't you come over here and see for yourself David? Oh Shit! Sorry Paul."

Dwayne quickly apologized when Paul let out a wail. Vampire or not having his guts splayed on the cave floor was anything but pleasant. It didn't just hurt. It hurt like hell.

David closed his eyes for a moment. Why was this happening now? He didn't need this. Not tonight.

Muttering something under his breath as David shrugged of both of his jackets and tossed them onto one of the broken arms of the tarnished chandelier in the centre of the cave.

"You gonna go after him?" Dwayne asked but when he glanced down at his bloodied hand he winched at the amount of blood that Paul was loosing. This was not good.

"No."

David reply barely reached Dwayne's ears as he went over to the tool box and began to frantically rummage through the various shelves.

"No? What do you mean no? I'll stay with Paul until Marko gets back. You go track down that bastard and I'll meet up with you as soon as I can. We can obliterate that fucker before sun-up." Dwayne swore over his shoulder before he got up and began tearing apart the tattered gossamer curtains from the decaying four-poster bed that been Paul's sick bed the night before.

Paul's wound was ugly and the irony wasn't lost on any of them that this was the second night in a row that he was laid out flat and bleeding. It would have been downright funny if it wasn't for the fact that Dwayne had to staunch the bleeding fast or else Paul would be in serious trouble.

"Fuuuuck...you guys...why does shit...always happen...to me?"

He had a point. What was it with Paul and near-fatal wounds?

Right now Dwayne didn't bother to respond as he shredded the off-white curtains into thick strips to use them as make-shift bandages in order to keep Paul's guts from going everywhere.

"Fuck...it...hurts." Paul hissed between clenched teeth as Dwayne carefully tried to turn him onto his back in order to apply pressure to the weeping gash.

"It looks worse than it is." Dwayne said off-handedly as he carefully tucked an exposed part of Paul's large intestine back into his abdomen. He kept his lips pressed firmly together as he went about the gag-worthy task of rearranging Paul's innards so that everything sort of fit back into place.

"I'm no doctor but I really hope you're not missing any pieces."

Paul's response was anything but jovial as he swore a blue streak at Dwayne and threatened to tear out his kidneys the first chance he got.

"You really gotta stop getting yourself torn up man." Dwayne tried to make light of the situation as he kept one blood-caked hand planted on the gash while he tried to wrap a length of fabric around Paul's side. It was a good thing that Dwayne had long fingers because they were the only thing that kept Paul together when he started to convulse.

"C'mon Paul, work with me here." He said as Paul swore once more before slipping into a state of shock. The tremors made it extremely difficult for Dwayne to do two things at once. "David! Little help!"

"Move over." David ordered before he crouched down beside Paul and snapped open a small folded knife that he had unearthed from Dwayne's toolbox.

"Use the bottle." Dwayne fire backed as he carefully move to the side so that David could get close to Paul while maintaining constant pressure on Paul's wound.

"It's nowhere near enough and we don't have much time." David growled. "Hold him steady."

"What the hell do you think I've been trying to do..." Dwayne growled right back as he half-lifted Paul up into a somewhat sitting position.

Paul yowled as the pain doubled when David moved in behind him but between David and Dwayne they somehow managed to keep Paul somewhat still. Still enough at least for David to anchor himself so that all of Paul's weight was was leaning against his chest.

"You do this David, and there's no way we can beat this guy." Dwayne warned as he watched David bring the knife's tip to the side of his neck right where the jugular vein was.

"Give him whatever's in the bottle when I'm done." David ordered between clenched teeth and slashed the knife's razored edge down his neck deep enough to cut the vein clean open. A river of deep scarlet began to run from the laceration. Instinct spurred Paul into action and he instantly latched himself onto David's throat with the desperate strength of a dying man. David bared his teeth in agony as Paul dug his fangs in. The two remained locked together and as Paul became more animated David went from pale to looking as colourless as a four-day old corpse.

"Enough Paul." David gasped. He pulled away when he felt that Paul had begun to cross the safe zone. If Paul continued to feed on him, the vampire would likely drain him to the point of death without even realizing it.

It took Paul a few seconds to come back to himself. But thankfully he retracted his fangs on command without Dwayne having to break his jaw.

"Need more..." Paul coughed.

Dwayne went to retrieve the bottle of blood that was always kept stashed away in a safe place while David grabbed one of the strips of cloth and pressed it tightly to his neck. Dwayne returned moments later and uncorked the bottle before handing it to Paul.

"Cheers." Paul quickly drained its contents dry.

"You gonna be okay?" Dwayne asked David as he eyed his waxy near-translucent complexion as well as the dark bruise-like circles that had appeared under his eyes.

"I'll live." David muttered wearily as he slowly lowered Paul back onto the ground so that Dwayne could finish with the bandaging. Using the cave wall for support, David struggled to stand up and had to rest against the wall for a moment when vertigo hit him.

Dwayne was quick to finish tying up the wraps and took off his jacket to stuff it behind Paul's head. It was too soon to move Paul and Dwayne was going to need Marko's help in lifting him for fear of making matters any worse. Seeing that Paul wasn't going to die on them any time soon, Dwayne went to David's aid.

And that was when Marko came running pell-mell into the cave like the proverbial Bat of out Hell that Meatloaf was always wailing on about.

"David! David! Max is coming! Like right now! Shit man, you will not believe what I just saw! Some sort of vampire baron guy just showed up at Max's place tonight. David this guy was old school. I'm talking like Dracula aristocratic old school Bela Lugosi shit. And now Max is on his way over and...what the hell just happened?"

Marko skidded to a jarring halt as he caught sight of Paul lying bandaged in a pool of his own blood and Dwayne supporting David, who looked like death, over to the couch.

"Holy shit! What'd I miss?"

"Nothing you need to worry about right now. What did you say about Max?" David snapped as he sunk into the couch. It hurt for him to swallow.

"Wha? Oh, right. Um, Max. He's coming here. Right now. And I'm telling you David he does not look happy. I-I don't know what's going on but I think it's trouble." Marko nervously ran his hands through his curly hair while he bounced from one foot to the other. His adrenaline rush was still going strong.

"Shit." David swore as he tried to rise swiftly to his feet. Major mistake. His knees buckled and he collapsed back onto the couch looking even worse than before.

"You okay David?" Marko jumped in alarm.

"Never mind me. Dwayne put Paul in Sarah's cave and make sure he stays quiet. Marko, cover up the blood and throw me my jackets. Don't just stand there. Move!"

The near frantic tone of his voice made Dwayne and Marko shut up and do what he told them. The only times that Max had ever visited the cave was when there was a serious cause for concern. If David was frantic then there was a damn good reason for him to be.

Marko grabbed David's jackets and tossed them at him while Dwayne picked Paul up as gently as he could.

"Sorry." Dwayne muttered as Paul let out a string of vicious curses as the pain spiked to a ten. There was no time to be nice but Dwayne stepped carefully while Marko gophered the cave for old newspapers, tattered blankets, torn magazines and whatever else he could use to cover the fresh bloodied patch on the floor.

"Why is the bottle empty?"

Marko picked it up and looked at David.

"Just hide it somewhere." David slowly worked his way into both of his jackets as if it pained him to move. Never mind that now. He turned up the collar of his trench coat in order to hide the bottom half of his face and neck from view. Marko did what he was told and stashed the bottle in some obscure nook just as Max walked into the cave.

Talk about prefect timing.

"Evening boys." The tall well-dressed businessman said as he strolled down the ramp looking utterly out of place midst the flotsam and jetsam decor of the vampire cave.

Marko quickly propped himself against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. David watched Max with hooded eyes as he rested his left foot on his right knee, giving off the appearance that he was completely at ease with the unexpected visitation. Which wasn't the case but hell would freeze over first before he ever gave the Head Vampire that satisfaction.

"What brings you down here?" David asked as Max glanced about the cave with his arms casually clasped behind his back.

"Oh I just wanted to see how you boys were doing. Where are the other two?" Max asked pleasantly without missing a beat.

"Right here. Paul's out with the kid." Dwayne spoke up as he stalked into the cave. As always he gave Max a brooding look before he went over to his bike and picked up oily rag in order to hide his bloodied hands from Max's gaze. Nothing unusual to see here.

"Ah. I see you boys are doing what I asked. Very good." Max mused as he watched Dwayne wipe his hands with the rag. The pungent scent of axel grease and motor oil were strong enough to mask the scent of Paul's blood on him but it made little difference in the fact that the cave wreaked like a slaughterhouse.

"I am not interrupting anything am I?" Max asked David as he gave him a knowing look from behind his thick-rimmed glasses. Fake, of course, but the unsuspecting public would never know.

"Not all at. We just finished eating." David smiled tightly.

"Well then I won't keep you from doing whatever it was you boys were getting up to." Max smiled back and didn't say another word until David dropped his smile and lowered his gaze.

"Very good. I just want you boys to know that an old friend of mine from the old country will be staying in town for a few days so I want you all to be on your best behaviour. Especially Paul. I will be keeping my eye on you so I will know if my rules are being obeyed. And disobeyed. Also, David I want you to bring Sarah up to the house tomorrow night for ten o'clock. The rest of you can do whatever you like without having me breathe down your necks for once." Max chuckled as David, Marko and Dwayne just stared at him stone-faced.

"Ten o'clock?" David asked quietly and arched an eyebrow. Max would never know how much effort he had put into doing that.

"Ten o'clock sharp and don't be late. I'm counting on you David to make a good impression on the Baron." Max said as he nodded his head. With that he headed back up the ramp toward the mouth of the cave.

"Who's this Baron?"

Max paused before he half-turned and gave David an unreadable half-smile.

"You will find out tomorrow at 10 o'clock." He answered before he left the cave.

The tension eased once Max was gone. No one moved until they were sure that he was not going to double back. David slumped forward with his elbows on his knees. If it was possible for him to age ten years in ten minutes he would have.

"I don't know about you guys but there is something seriously wrong with all this."

Marko, ever one to point out of obvious.

"Marko's right. First this Lincoln guy and now this? Barons and meetings up at the big house? What's going on David?" Dwayne dropped the rag and made a lightning grab for one of the fat grey pigeons that were pecking away at a few tiny pebbles close by. Two of the birds flew off in a flurry of wings and feathers but the third wasn't so lucky. It beat its wings in vain as Dwayne handed David the bird.

"Aw c'mon Dwayne." Marko muttered as he watched the pigeon being served as a replacement meal but he didn't say anything else when David pulled an Ozzy and bit its head off. David drained the plump morsel and tossed its bloodless body at Marko who caught it with a sigh.

At least it hadn't been his favourite bird of the bunch.

"I have no idea what going on but we'll have to wait until tomorrow night to find out." David wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head. "Lincoln's appearance must have something to do with this new vampire in town. Marko, tomorrow night you and Paul stay here. Dwayne I want you stake out the Boardwalk. If Lincoln is going to make another appearance, he'll do it there. It's public enough to draw him out. Be on your guard. If anyone gets backed into a corner, take off. Max is up to something. I can feel it. And we're stuck in the middle of it."

"Okay, but wait. Who's Lincoln?" Marko asked as he chewed on his thumbnail, looking a tad bit out of the loop hole.

"He's an old problem that won't die. Max banished him years ago after he went feral and nearly exposed us to the public. Now he's back. He got Paul and he'll try to get the rest of us if we let him. Do not let him get near you. Not alone."

David's last comment was directed at Dwayne.

"And what about Sarah? Do we tell her about all this?" Marko asked as he looked from David to Dwayne, bringing up a point that neither had given any thought to.

"No. If we do she'll run again and I won't chase after her. I have a feeling she'll find out soon enough. Which reminds me, she should be back by now."

As if on cue the three looked to the cave entrance just as Sarah tried to tip-toe in without being seen or heard. She froze when she realized that she had been spotted.

"Sorry I'm late guys...I ah...got a little sidetracked."

Sarah wilted under the dark stares of the three vampires.

Talk about busted.


	6. Die Young

**Author's Note:** Giving you all a head's up that there is a disturbing part involving drugs and dead bodies in this chapter.

 **Chapter Theme Song:** "Die Young" by DIO

* * *

 _"Well folks that was some Led Zeppelin for you all. It's Saturday night and the fun has barely begun. So if you got a request, call in and let me know what you wanna hear and J.P Jones will be sure to play it loudly and proudly. Now this next song goes out to the biker pack in black down at the Boardwalk. You know who you are. Honest Abe wants to say thanks for the homecoming and to let Paula know that he's thinking of her. Well ain't that something? Well Honest Abe, whoever you are, here's your Die Young. Black Sabbath is hitting the sound-waves people. So cut loose and let the good times roll!"_

The iconic Tommy Iomi dark riffs coursed through a small, beat-up transistor radio that sat dejectedly on a tarnished night-stand in a seedy run-down motel room. The room was a complete and utter mess with sheets strewn across the floor, furniture knocked over, and clothes haphazardly tossed about. The room was pitch black and the only source of light came from the tiny bathroom in the far corner. But the single naked bulb installed above the cracked porcelain sink did little more than cast twisted shadows on the faded sea foam green tiled walls.

 _Go to the wind, though the wind won't help you fly at all,_ _Your backs to the wall!_

 _Then chase the sun, and it tears away and it breaks you as you run, You run, You run!_

 _Behind the smile, there's danger and a promise to be told: You never get old!_

 _Life's fantasy - to be locked away and still to think you're free, You're free, We're free!_

 _So live for today, tomorrow never comes! Die Young!_

"Die young. Got that right." Lincoln chuckled to himself as he carefully maneuvered the razor thin edge of a small skinning knife across his jawline with an expert hand. Since he, like all blood-sucking fiends, lacked a reflection this weekly grooming ritual was performed solely by touch. Not once had he ever nicked a single layer of skin. If there was one thing he liked to take pride in it was the fact that when it came to shaving and skinning, he was a master.

Looks like the days he spent hiding in foxholes back in 'Nam taught him a thing or two other than how to drop a man without a whisper at 700 meters.

"Wew, would ya lookit that. Perfect every time." Lincoln cackled as he lowered the thin but deadly knife and ran his free hand over his face. There wasn't even a hint of razor burn. "Lincoln my man, you are one good lookin' son-of-a-bitch!"

Grinning that old jackal grin he whistled along with Sabbath while he applied the finishing touches to his brand-spanking new look. Gone was the shaggy shoulder-length hair and grown-out sideburns. What was left of it was greased and combed back into a slick nineteen-fifty's style ducks ass pompadour that made him look like an upstanding hoodlum. That prancing John Travolta would have turned puke green with envy.

There wasn't a single speck of blood, gore, dirt or grime to be found on him. He looked like new man. If he could have seen himself in the chipped mirror hanging over the rust-speckled sink, he would not have recognized the figure grinning back at him despite the deep scar that carved its way down his face like a jagged fork of lightning.

Little parting gift from Charlie that.

With meticulous care Lincoln wiped his knife clean with a wad of wet toilet paper and flushed it down the toilet along with the locks of his brown hair. He made sure not to leave so much as a single strand of stubble behind that could potentially be used as evidence when the police finally arrived. Long gone were the days when a crime with no witnesses or leads would end up in the unsolved cold case filing cabinet to gather dust.

When the bathroom was clear of any trace of his presence Lincoln sauntered into the bedroom and picked up his leather jacket that was lying in a heap on the floor.

"Now to get them chasin' their tails." He smiled to himself as he dug into the jacket's pockets and pulled out a small packet of cocaine as well as a plastic zip-lock bag that contained a lock of long, dirty blond hair.

Grinning like a mad jackal the entire time, Lincoln stepped over an upturned chair and made his way to where the bloodless bodies of two female prostitutes lay entangled with each other. It took Lincoln all of five minutes to set up the scene and plant the strands of Paul's hair on the dead women. When he stepped back to admire his handy-work, he was mighty pleased with himself.

Boy howdy, when those investigators from the local law enforcement arrived the carnage inside the motel room would be just another classic example of the seedy Californian underbelly claiming its due. Police Chief Henry Morton was going to have a field day with this one when the press caught on.

Another double homicide? In two days? Santa Carla was going to be trembling in its own shadow by the time Lincoln Dervish went along on his merry way.

 _"Hey hey Paula, I wanna marry you. Hey hey Paula, no one else could ever do."_ Lincoln sang to himself as he unearthed his boots from underneath the worn comforter and tugged them on. Next came the jacket over his newly acquired clean white button down and black t-shirt. His two knives were the finishing touches. The skinning knife went back into its hiding spot in his left boot while the big bowie was strapped to his belt like a 6-shot colt pistol.

When all was said and done Lincoln carefully scanned the room to make sure that everything was in place. Satisfied that all had gone according to plan, the crafty vampire whipped his keys out of his jacket pocket and strolled on out of the room without looking back.

The coast was clear just as he knew it would be and in a blink of an eye Lincoln just seemed to vanish. After earlier tampering with the motel owner's mind Lincoln was in the safe so he didn't bother hanging around when there was other work to be done. He had had his fun now it was time to settle down and get serious.

Even he could not refuse a direct order from the "meanest mother-fucker in the good ol' U S of A".

A few blocks south from the sleazy motel the deep angry roar of an LS6 V8 engine filled the night down by the old warehouse district. A stray cat's startled screech was cut short when it met its untimely end under the firestone tires of a Grade A All-American muscle car.

Lincoln ran his tongue over his fangs as he laughed out loud and fondly patted the spotless dashboard of the black and white 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle. Steel, chrome, and striped she was a thing of beauty. A real work of art. One that was as black and dangerous as its highly buffed paint job.

The muscle car responded to his attentions with a deep throated purr that was anything but friendly.

"More'n one way to skin a cat eh Baby?" Lincoln grinned as Baby, the aptly named road monster, snarled in guttural agreement. With Lincoln behind the wheel of one of the toughest asphalt eaters in the country, Santa Carla was about to have her ass handed to her without even knowing it.

"Let's have us some fun." Lincoln smirked to himself as he lowered a pair of tinted Aviators onto his face and gunned the engine. Baby purred when Lincoln shifted into drive. Like a rabid bat out of hell the vampire peeled out of the abandoned warehouse with a squeal of smoking tires that was loud enough to set stray dogs barking.

Tory blew a large pink bubble and popped it with her tongue as she sat on the metal side railing that lined the Boardwalk, lazily swinging her legs back and forth as she watched Ian walk toward her.

"Didn't find her huh?" Tory asked as she chewed on her wad of strawberry flavoured bubble gum.

"She said that she'd show. Where could she be?" Ian asked as he leaned against the rail. He kept his eyes on the people walking past them, trying to see if he could spot the colourful patched jean jacket among the eclectic crowd.

"You're asking me? My guess is she stiffed us. I don't know why but right now I'm really starting not to care where she's gone." Tory grumbled moodily as she cracked another bubble and sighed. She drummed her hands on the railing in time with the music that was playing on the boardwalk speakers and for a while neither she nor Ian said anything.

"Do you think she went home?" Tory asked, catching Ian's attention for a moment.

"Why would she go home?" He asked her. Tory just shrugged her shoulders and tried to make it seem that none of this was any concern of hers.

"Don't know. Just asking."

She went back to swaying her body in time with the music.

"Who were those guys she said she was hanging with last night? Maybe she's with them." Ian theorized as the two remained where they were, watching everyone flow past while silently hoping for Sarah to materialize out of the throng.

"Bup. She never said. She just said she was staying with a bunch of friends near the Boardwalk. You don't think anything...I dunno, happened?" Tory asked as she tucked the wad of gum under her tongue for a second so that she could dig out a popcorn kernel that was stuck between her molars.

"That's what I'm worried about. Did you hear what happened yesterday? It was on the news today and in all the papers. Triple homicide in the red light district. Bunch of teenage girls had their throats ripped out." He shuddered as an image of the murders popped into his mind.

"You don't think that..." Tory didn't bother finishing her question because she knew that Ian understood what she was trying to say.

"I don't think so. She didn't seem the type. Too fresh." Ian muttered as he kicked away a busted bottle cap. Tory nodded in agreement and continued to sway, chewing her gum loudly as Ian slouched beside her, the two of them lost in thought.

No matter what they had hoped neither of them ever expected to see Sarah on the back of a motorcycle, especially one driven by one of the more unsavory characters that haunted the Santa Carla Boardwalk.

Dumbfounded Tory accidentally bit her tongue when she got a good look at the driver and without realizing it she swallowed her wad of gum whole. Ian just stared with his mouth hanging slightly opened as the bike merged with the crowd of people and vanished from view a few seconds later, the sharp sound of the bike's engine still ringing in his ears.

As if caught in the twilight zone, Ian and Tory turned their heads and looked at each other, stunned.

"Well at least we know she's not dead." Tory said in a quiet almost timid voice that was so unlike her.

"Not yet." Ian said as he climbed the railing and tried to see if he could find the motorcycle over the heads of all the people.

He caught a glimpse of Sarah's back as David drove off the Boardwalk and took a left. Ian knew that the road snaked along the coast, past the high-end homes that were located in expensive up-scale part of town. It was an area where bikers and street kids were not welcome.

"C'mon." Tory said as she jumped off her perch and tugged the back of Ian's battered bomber jacket.

"Where are we going?" Ian asked as he carefully climbed down and followed his best friend as she headed towards the corndog stand. Tory didn't respond as she wove past the stand and marched over to where a bunch of older teens were hanging out around an assortment of low-end motorcycles and dirt-bikes.

"Hey, Brooke! Lend us your bike for an hour?" Tory asked straight out as she tapped one of the guys on the shoulder. When he turned to face her she stood back with her arms folded across her chest, her tough chick persona making its grand appearance. Ian hung back as the group's attention focused on Tory, who didn't flinch from under their suspicious stares.

"Yeah right." Brooke snorted as he palmed a cigarette off one of his friends and lit it.

"I mean it Brooke. Can we borrow your bike for an hour? It's an emergency." Tory tapped her foot and glared up at him with her best "try me and die" look.

" _You owe me."_ She mouthed silently.

Brooke's expression darkened momentarily before he took a long drag on his cigarette.

"I want it back in one hour. If you're late, I'll take it out of your hide."

"We won't be late." She said as she turned on her heel and pushed her way through the group with her head held high. Ever the one to be caught off guard by Tory's, well, Toriness Ian carefully made his way around the group instead.

"What was that all about?" Ian asked her, making sure to keep his voice as low enough so that Brooke and company would not be able to hear him. Tory flashed him a satisfied smirk as she walked over to a battered dirt-bike that had seen better days. It wasn't much to look at but at least it was better than nothing.

"Just collecting a debt. I bailed him out when the cops were gonna nab him for dealing pot and I'm glad I did." She eyed the bike before she swung on, fully aware that they were being watched. "I scratch his back, he scratches mine. You know how it is. Get on."

"Tory you don't know how to ride a dirt-bike." Ian said as he watched her coax the old bike to life. The engine coughed once before it settled into a steady rattle.

"But you do." She grinned as she scooted back and patted the empty space in front of her.

"This isn't a good idea. What are we going to do? Follow them?" Ian muttered as he stole a glance over his shoulder. The other guys had lost interest in what was going on but Brooke was still watching them and Ian didn't feel comfortable under the guy's curious stare.

"Ian, Sarah could be in trouble. What kind of friends would we be if we just sat here and did nothing? That guy could have it in for her and we're standing here arguing. Just get on Ian." She sighed as she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him forward so that he didn't have a choice.

"I thought you said you didn't care about what happened to her." Ian gingerly mounted the bike and flipped up the kickstand with his foot as he got a feel for the handlebars. It had been a while since he had last hot-wired a bike and took it on a joy ride.

"Ian since when do you ever listen to what I say?" Tory said as she tucked her feet behind Ian's and wrapped her arms tightly around his middle. The bike wasn't made to hold two riders but they really didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Ian muttered something under his breath but the sudden pitch in the bike's volume blocked out his words.

With a high pitched whine, Ian and Tory took off in the direction that Sarah had gone. Once they made their way out of the Boardwalk Ian took the same left that David had and picked up speed. He had no idea how they were going to find Sarah and if they did, what would they do?

Both he and Tory had heard the rumours that were whispered around the bon fires late at night down at the beach. The ones about the four bikers that only came out after sunset and prowled the downtown core as if they owned the place. No one knew what their story was and no one wanted to find out because everyone knew that if you got in their way, you'd end up having your picture plastered on another Missing Persons poster.

And Santa Carla was covered in Missing Persons posters.


	7. Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These

**Author's Note:** **This chapter contains trigger warnings for disturbing nonconsensual subject matter.**

 **Chapter Theme Song:** "Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)" by Eurythmics

* * *

David's piercing gaze never strayed from the wet asphalt. The thick mist that swept in off the ocean was a driving hazard as were the sharp turns and rain slicked pavement that wound up into the forested hills of Santa Carla. He was on a deadline that did not allow for errors or excuses.

The Triumph Bonneville growled in annoyance when David was forced to cut his speed and lean into a sharp right turn that made Sarah tighten the grip she had on him least she accidentally tumble off the back of the motorcycle. Despite the slick road conditions the Triumph roared into the night as David gunned the engine at twenty over the regulated speed limit.

Navigating the steep winding road that led to Max's place required a steady hand but tonight David was having a hard time keeping a firm hold on his simmering anger. After having all day to brood over Lincoln's unexpected arrival and his deliberate attempt to butcher Paul for the sole purpose of annoying the heck out of him, David was not in the best of moods.

The Triumph seemed to channel all of David's frustration as he opened the throttle a bit more.

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face into the back of David's heavy trench coat as the Triumph snarled in her ears. The two vampires rode in silence but every so often a growl would escape David. Sarah could feel the vibrations through the multiple layers of his jackets and it scared her.

"David," Sarah turned her face away from his shoulder so that her words weren't muffled by fabric, "is it my fault that you're in trouble with Max? If it is then I'm - I'm sorry."

Those pale blue eyes grew a little harder and his grip on the handlebars became a little firmer but other than that the vampire leader gave no indication that he had heard her. Sarah swallowed before she closed her eyes once again. Usually the rare ride with David and the others was an enjoyable experience. But there was something about this night that made her feel sick inside. It was almost as if she could feel that something bad was going to happen and she wasn't the only one.

Sarah did not open her eyes until the bike slowed to a crawl and halted alongside a pristine white painted fence that encompassed the entirety of Max's vast property. Blinking hard in an attempt to get rid of the dry eye feeling she had Sarah dismounted first and hugged herself tightly as a chill ran up her spine.

There was something different about Max's estate.

"David, who's car is that?" She asked quietly as she eyed the hulking black and white American muscle car that sat in the spot where Max usually parked his red high-end convertible.

David eyed the flawless 70's Chevelle SS for a moment before he twisted the keys out of the ignition and stepped away from his bike. Next to the muscle car the Triumph looked practically pathetic.

"Let's go." He said gruffly and grabbed Sarah by the arm before he stalked across the wooden walkway that led straight to Max's front door.

"David you're hurting me."

Sarah tried to match David's long strides as her words fell on deaf ears once again. The scowl on David's face darkened considerably when he caught sight of Thorn, a white shepherd that was Max's personal hound of hell. The large dog sat vigilantly by the front door without moving. The only tell was that it pinned its ears back in response to David and Sarah's approached. The brute did not like them and the feeling was mutual.

Thorn let out a loud booming bark that made Sarah jump and miss a step.

"Something bad is going to happen isn't it?" Sarah asked in a small voice that irked David

"Whatever you do, do not speak unless he tells you to." David muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he steeled himself for what was to come. He wasn't sure of what Max had planned for that evening but judging from what he had witnessed with the last six girls that had crossed the threshold David was prepared for what he thought was going to be another long night.

He had no idea just how long it would to be.

"Ten o'clock on the dot. It's good to see that you are still capable of being punctual."

Max said in that oh-so-practical tone of his that set David's teeth on edge. The front door swung open and Max filled the doorway. David resisted the urge to glare at Max as he stepped over the threshold but Sarah hesitated for a moment. She looked fearfully up at the Head Vampire but a sharp snap from Thorn sent her leaping into the extravagant hallway.

"Still not much of a dog person are you?" Max asked Sarah who kept her eyes downcast not daring to look at either the vampire or his devil dog. Max patted the shepherd fondly on the head when the dog entered last.

"Well, why don't we all go into the parlour and get settled? There is someone that I'd like for you both to meet."

Thorn padded lazily past with a soft click of nails on the hardwood flooring as Max led them into a large open concept room that was tastefully decorated in the finest that the decade had to offer. Neon lights among priceless pop culture pieces that belonged in an art museum there was nothing subtle or modest about Max's tastes. He enjoyed extravagance and expense and it clearly showed in how he had decorated the oceanfront mansion.

None of this registered with David upon entering the room but when he caught sight of who was waiting he stopped cold in his tracks. Lounging on one of Max's large white calf leather sofas was Lincoln, alive and whole. The prodigal vampire turned his head and gave David a lazy smile while he rolled a wooden toothpick around with his tongue.

Sarah let out a fearful hiss and hid behind David. Lincoln laughed as he glanced over his shoulder to eye the cause of the young vampire's distress.

Oh it wasn't Lincoln made Sarah cower behind David like a scared rabbit. He knew he was good, but his Boss was better. It was pretty obvious.

"David, Sarah, I would like to introduce you to an old acquaintance of mine. This is Freiherr Gereon Von Fauster, a Drachenmeister from Germany and more recently the East Coast. In the North American circles we refer to him as Baron Lucard, a Master Vampire from an era that people hardly read about in the history books anymore. Oh don't worry, he is not _the_ Dracula. Hardly. That was just a bit of PR that took off in the 1800s and hasn't stopped since. No, the Baron is one of the few remaining members of the Order of the Dragon who still walk among us. And The Baron has come a long way to meet you Sarah. Quite the honour wouldn't you say?" Max said matter-of-factly as he stood off to the side to watch how this little scene would play out.

A tall, imposing figure towered over the room from where he stood with his back to the modern marble fireplace. Impeccably tailored in a hand-stitched pinstriped Italian suit complete with silk tie and polished leather shoes the silver-haired Baron looked like he had come straight from a CEO meeting with the top executive traders on Wall Street. Everything from the hard lines on his face to the immaculate cut of his beard emulated power. It wasn't just his physical build that filled the room, for in height he was a good half a head taller than Max, but it was also his very presence that seemed to dwarf his surroundings.

David found himself instinctively taking on a more submissive stance, head down and eyes lowered, which was something that he never did in front of anyone unless he was physically forced to. In his eyes the baron was huge, huge in power and huge in being. A lion among men with the face of an old king. The man, this master vampire, was a dark-eyed force of nature onto himself that one no one in their right mind would ever want to reckon with.

Never before had David felt the weightless sense of dread that chilled him to the very core. He could not suppress the shudder that ran through him. He did not want to be here, in this room, with that man. He had to get away.

"The pleasure is mine." Lucard spoke softly, hardly above a deep-timbered whisper and in perfect English as he nodded his head in Sarah's direction. "Please do not be frightened. There is no reason to fear."

Both David and Sarah found that hard to believe.

Max waited a moment before he cleared his throat and gave Sarah a stern look. The Baron might be the Master in the room but Max was still her maker and she answered to him. He did not abide rudeness under his roof.

Sarah swallowed hard, not once but twice, before she found her voice.

"H-hello."

She slowly edged out from behind David.

Lucard's dark brown eyes seemed somewhat warm compared to his polished and chiseled exterior and when he smiled, Sarah instantly looked down at her feet.

"I see that my unexpected visit seems to have startled you. For that I do apologize."

"I-it's...it's alright." Sarah whispered, surprised that she even had the nerve to say anything.

Max took that moment as his cue and stepped towards Sarah. As he did so he blocked David out completely before he placed his hand on her shoulder. The moment his hand touched her Sarah blanched. This reaction did not go unnoticed by Lucard and when his eyes flickered to Max, the head vampire of Santa Carla shook his head.

"Since Max has so kindly introduced you to me, allow me to introduce one of my own. Sarah this is Lincoln." Lucard gestured to the seated vampire whose coy smile broadened when he winked at her.

"Hey there." He said as he took the toothpick out of his mouth. "Wouldja look at those pretty terrified hazel eyes. If I didn't know better Boss I'd say that that was real fear in them. Wonder why?"

Lincoln quietly chuckled to himself as he started to pick his eyeteeth with the toothpick.

"How observant of you." Lucard's tone was dry.

"Glad you think so." Lincoln mused as he continued to pick his teeth. He was not at all concerned with his master's reaction. After all this was all just a game. A vampire chess match where two masters pitted their own against each other in order to gain that ever coveted upper-hand.

"Do not mind Lincoln. Sometimes his mouth is smarter than his mind." Lucard reassured Sarah as he beckoned her to come closer with a wave of his hand. "Do not worry my dear; I can assure you that I do not bite."

The genuine smile on his face warmed his eyes by degrees and though Max held her in place Sarah slowly began to relax. She made no move as she studied the powerful figure with a cautious expression. The mistrust was right there on the surface as was the fear but when Sarah finally gathered the nerve to look him in the eye she paused. Those eyes. They just seemed so friendly and for a moment she could not remember why she had been so frightened to begin with.

Oh sure Max was right there beside her. Could that have been it? It must be. She did not like Max. She hated Max. Loathed Max. But Lucard didn't seem to be anything like Max so why should she not move a little closer?

"I can't believe you just said that." Lincoln snorted at the overused cliché.

"Lincoln." Lucard's voice remained even but the smart-mouthed vampire got the message.

"Alright, alright." Lincoln spat out the toothpick as he heaved himself off the couch and sauntered over to where David stood. Lincoln made sure that he went around the couch so that he would not cut in front of Sarah or Max.

"Now we wait for the fun to begin." Lincoln murmured to David as he stood right beside him and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes locked on Sarah as she took the first step away from Max.

David glared at Lincoln out of the corner of his eye but did not make any move to step away from his old rival. Lincoln caught the look and a slow knowing smile crept over his scarred face.

"You have no idea of what's goin' on do you? Shoo boy, you're in for one helluva surprise."

With that Lincoln quickly cracked the kink out of his neck and settled down to wait for what was coming.

A lick of fear flashed across David's mind as he focused his attention on Lucard and when he did a wave of realization slowly came to him. With Max standing on one side of the room and Lucard on the other, Sarah looked like a naive little songbird caught between two hungry predators and did not even know it.

"Is she a runner or a fighter? My money's on runner." Lincoln barely moved his lips as Sarah faltered halfway and looked back at David.

"Go on." Max said with a nod of his head. While everyone watched in an anticipation that only Sarah seemed completely unaware of she took a willing chance.

Lucard smiled.

"I'm glad to see that you have some trust in me. Trust is a very important part of my world. Tell me Sarah, do you trust me?" He asked as she stared up at him, their eye contact never breaking.

Sarah did not say anything for a moment as she thought about the question and when she answered her voice did not quiver like it had moments ago. "Should I?"

"Should you? Well that is entirely up for you to decide." Lucard chuckled as did Max, as if it was some private inside joke that they both shared.

"Then I haven't decided yet." Sarah clasped her hands together and tilted her head to the side.

Lincoln snorted back a laugh and cleared his throat as Max slowly turned and gave him a look of warning. Instead of looking away Lincoln flashed Max his most patronizing smile and gave him the finger.

"Is that so? Well I can respect that. I enjoy a woman who speaks her mind." He said in a way that slyly coaxed a shy smile from Sarah. "You are very pretty when you smile, do you know that? Not many people can light up a room with a simple smile."

Lucard carefully looked her over, appraising what he was saw with a critical eye in a way that did not make it the least bit obvious. "So innocent and so full of life. So untouched."

He raised his hand and gently caressed Sarah's cheek with a finger. Sarah did not flinch or shy away from the gesture. She blushed and looked away shyly.

"Nnnn..." David burst into a fit of coughing. No one paid him any attention as he cleared his throat and swallowed. What the hell? David looked sharply at Max, but the head vampire had his back turned to him and seemed to be focused entirely on Lucard and Sarah. Lincoln grinned that jackal grin of his as he looked straight ahead.

When David tried to step forward, Lincoln's smile tightened into wicked sneer.

" _Told you he was one mean mother-fucker._ "

David's anxiety level shot up instantly. He couldn't move. He could not move from where he was standing. Something had him frozen to the spot.

" _What the hell is going on!_ "

David's voice snarled in his minds eye. David tried once more to move forward but his legs would not obey. Nor would his arms or any part of his body.

Lincoln ran his tongue over his teeth and cracked his knuckles.

" _Watch and learn Davey-boy. You just sit tight and watch how the big guns do business. Nothin' else you can do is there?_ "

Lincoln purred viciously as David growled. His narrowed eyes were the only sign that gave away his internal struggle as he strained with all his might to move even an inch in any direction but whatever it was that had him stuck, it had him good.

"Where did you find this one?" Lucard asked Max as he casually tucked a wayward strand of Sarah's hair behind her ear. A faint frown appeared on her face but she just brushed the comment off as nothing. After all, she did not have anything to be afraid of. Standing so close to the Master Vampire made her feel safe and wanted. Max's influence could not touch her now. It was a feeling that she had not felt in a long time and she really did not want it to go away.

"San Francisco. When I saw her I knew I could not let the opportunity pass. You do not find them with such innocence anymore, not at that age." Max replied as he adjusted his glasses and smiled slightly.

"Indeed. The youth today are too far gone to be of any use." Lucard glanced down at Sarah for a moment. "Is she marked?"

"Ah, no. I used the other method because I knew that you preferred them without the marks."

"That was quite thoughtful of you to consider after everything that has happened occurred between us in the past. I am very appreciative." Lucard said with a slow nod of his head, one that Max instantly mirrored. Vampire politics. When in the negation of terms it was always better to be polite and unreadable whilst always keep the cards close to the chest.

"Well that is all water under the bridge as they say." Max chuckled. The smile on his face did not reach his eyes. "So, does she suit your interest?"

Formalities aside it was time to get down to business.

"Indeed she does. She is a very rare find and I would call myself a fool to not accept your offer."

Sarah tried to make sense of what the baron had just said. The severe tone of his voice jarred her slowly back to reality. With it came the return of the crippling fear that had overcome her when she first entered the house.

"Then you agree to give me the whole of California in exchange?" Max put forth wording his question carefully so that he did not accidentally tip the balance in the barons favour. Lucard nodded slowly once more and the deal was done. "Well then, that is great news. And the other elders, when will they be made aware of the terms of the agreement?"

"In a few days I will be attending a meeting with the Heads of the Americas and that is when I shall let them know. Do not worry Von Ruben, my word is my bond as you well know. I will not go back on it. I can assure you."

"Then our business here is finished." Max said as he squared his shoulders and looked Lucard in the eye. "She is now yours to do with what you will. I hope this one satisfies your expectations, unlike the others. It was quite unfortunate to hear how they turned out. I never would have imagined it."

 _Others_.

Max had said something about others. The other girls? Sarah's eyes widened. Max could only mean the girls whose names were written on the cave wall. Who else could they be?

Sarah tried to catch David's eye but with Max standing in the way there was no way for her to verify if her suspicions were true. Had she been able to see the expression on David's face she would have screamed.

"Why Dave, you're lookin' a little green around the gills there. What's wrong? Get the wind knocked outta ya?" Lincoln inquired when the pallor of David's skin became the colour of bleached bone. "Sure is a kicker ain't it? I'm surprised you did figure this all out sooner."

Lincoln positioned himself so that he was standing in the middle of the parlour entrance. He rolled his shoulders before he slouched into a fighter's crouch.

"Now comes the fun part."

Only Lincoln would find sadistic enjoyment in such an abhorred custom, despite the fact that what was about to happen to Sarah had happened to him decades ago.

"It happens more often than not. Fledglings in this day and age cannot seem to cope with the concept of ownership. I blame the Civil War for that. Well Von Ruben, I have taken up enough of your time and hospitality. I do hope we can continue to have dealings in the future."

"As do I. But before you go..." Max trailed off deliberately as he looked at Sarah.

"Ah yes. It is never a pleasant experience but it must be done. Do you mind?"

Even though Sarah did not have the faintest idea as to what Lucard and Max were going on about she did figure that if she did not get herself out of that house right then something very bad was going to happen and it was going to happen to her.

It was high time that Sarah got her butt in motion and that is exactly what she did.

"Screw you!" Sarah spat as she slammed the heel of her combat boot down on Lucard's foot has hard as she could. Her sudden action seemed to have startled Lucard and that was all Sarah needed. David felt a sudden rush of air brush against him as Sarah passed him at full-speed but despite Sarah's lightning dash for freedom she could not get past Lincoln.

"Bastard!" Sarah yelled as Lincoln lunged to the side and caught her in a full-body bear-hug. They fell backward from the force of the collision and landed in a flailing heap in the hallway. It took Lincoln half a second to pin Sarah's arms to her sides and lock her legs together as he wrapped himself around her like a boa constrictor. Sarah's chances of making it out of the house were gone the second Lincoln had hit the ground.

"Let me go! Get your hands off me! David! Help!" Sarah hissed and spat as she tried to free herself but being rendered completely immobile by Lincoln's expert body hold she could do little more that wriggle about like a worm on a hook.

"Easy now there little miss fussy. No need to lose that pretty head of yours." Lincoln growled as he fought to keep his ankles locked together around her legs. Sarah screamed something awful before Lincoln rolled off his back so that he could pin her face down on the hardwood floor.

"Sonofa...let go...David...help!" Various curses and cries for help filled the house as Lincoln held on and rode out the storm with professional ease as Sarah gave her all into fighting Lincoln's impossible grip. Max and Lucard just watched everything from the parlour having seen and experienced the drama again and again for as long as either of them could remember.

This was nothing new to them, merely a necessary nuisance. To David however it was a solid punch in the gut.

" _Let her go."_

David's voice snarled in Lincoln's head but it did little more than piss off the busy vampire.

"Oh go fuck yourself David." Lincoln snarled back loudly as Sarah tried a reverse head butt on him.

"David let Lincoln do his job." Max said.

David was dumbfounded by the insincerity that his leader had for what was going on. Sarah was one of them for Christ sake! There was no love between him and Sarah to begin with but what David was witnessing made his skin crawl. It was the reality of it all that scared David to the core. If this could happen to Max's little pet then Sarah's fate could easily be his if Max ever felt like bartering him off for his own personal gain. The bile rose in the back of his throat and David felt the sudden urge to vomit.

"C'mon kid don't make me hurt you now!" Lincoln growled in warning when Sarah refused to give up and submit.

"Let me go and I'll return the favour asshole." Sarah hissed angrily as she tried to bite Lincoln.

"We're gonna have to teach this one a few manners. Quite the little fighter even if she don't look it. Guess I was wrong." Lincoln laughed out-loud as he rolled them both across the floor and wedged Sarah between himself and the wall in order to force her up against it so that she had no room to turn her head.

"Stop fooling around." Lucard commanded as he stepped into he hallway. He was followed closely by Max just in case an extra pair of hands were needed.

David could do little more than follow them all with his eyes and when the two elder vampires moved out of his line of vision he had little choice but to listen to what was going on a mere few feet away from him.

"Trust me boss, I ain't foolin'." Lincoln growled as Sarah tried once more to break Lincoln's hold, an act born out of complete desperation at the approach of the baron.

"Hold her still."

Lucard grabbed Lincoln and easily pulled him away from the wall before he stepped over him.

"What the hell do ya think I'm tryin' to do? Quit movin' you little..." Lincoln snapped before he nipped her nice and hard on the ear. Sarah let out a screech that made the hairs on the back of David's neck stand on end.

"Please, please don't do this. Max don't let him do this. Please, please Max." Sarah begged when Max crouched down and placed his large hands on either side of her face in order to immobilize her head. When that happened Sarah locked up once more as tears began to stream from the corners of her eyes.

"Ya got her head?" Lincoln asked as he shifted his body so that he was on his back and Sarah was left exposed on top of him.

"Oh god. Please don't do this. Please...please don't do this." Sarah whimpered as Lucard stood over her. She instinctively tried to shy away from his presence but Max forced her head to the side in order to expose the base of her neck from beneath the collar of her jacket. Lucard ignored her tear-filled cries as he reached over and pulled away her jacket and shirt in order to bare the base of her neck and shoulder.

"Ready Boss?" Lincoln muttered to Lucard as he tensed in anticipation.

"David help me! Oh god, don't let them do this. Don't do this! David! DAVID!"

David closed his eyes and ground his teeth in an attempt to block out the sound of Sarah's hysterical sobs but it was no use. He could hear it all and he could do absolutely nothing.

"Please...stop...please don't do this...please..."

Sarah was crying hard now. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't fight. All she could do was wait in fear. When she saw the demonic visage that hovered over her the scream she unleashed was a gut-wrenching shriek of despair and pure terror. The face of the Master Vampire that now had his hands on her was the most horrifying thing she had ever seen.

"Easy now, easy. It'll be over soon, c'mon, easy."" Lincoln quietly murmured into Sarah's ear right before Lucard grabbed her by the throat and bared his massive fangs. The savage snarls and growls of a vampire on the feed echoed through the long hallway as Lucard tore into her delicate neck with enough strength to wrench her out of Lincoln's body hold. Max had been fast enough to let go before her neck snapped but Lincoln received a powerful kick to the ribs for his troubles. Sarah uttered a single gasp in protest before the shock set in.

It did not take the Master Vampire long to drain her limp and lifeless. She almost reached the point past saving before Lucard eased his teeth out of what remained of her trapezius without severing the main artery. He acted fast with skilled ease as he checked her unseeing eyes to make sure that he had not damaged her beyond repair.

Despite her lifeless appearance Lucard could sense that a faint spark of life still remained and he worked swiftly to rekindle it. Slashing his wrist open with his teeth Lucard forced a steady stream of his blood down Sarah's throat from the deep wound. Minutes later Max intervened in order to apply a steady source of pressure on Lucard's wrist as Lucard bit into Sarah once more.

Lincoln rose to his feet and turned away from the scene. He left Max and Lucard alone to finish what had to be done. The bloodletting would have to be repeated a few times before the ritual was successfully completed. Whether or not Sarah would survive the ordeal remained to be seen.

He ran a hand nervously through his hair and completely messed up his already ruffled hairdo as he stepped into the parlour. David was still standing there, unmoving.

David opened his eyes and the two stared at each other for a long moment.

"He _owns_ you." Lincoln muttered quietly so that only David could hear. "Don't you forget it. He owns your ass and there's nothing you can do about it. Don't you _ever_ forget that."

David blinked but didn't make any sort of reply as Lincoln reaffirmed this newly learned truth. David was not his own master and he never would be while Max lived and lorded over him.

"Watch your back Dave."

With that Lincoln stepped away and went back into the hallway where Lucard and Max were waiting for him.

"Take her to the house and make sure she wakes before sunrise." Lucard instructed as Lincoln nodded and took Sarah up in his arms.

"And you?" Lincoln asked as he looked down at the corpselike figure that he held. Sarah was a bloodied mangled mess and her clothes were ruined but Lucard was as immaculate as ever. There wasn't even a hair out of place despite what had just happened.

"I will join you before sunrise."

That was all Lucard said before he turned and strode out of the house and into the night, leaving Lincoln to care for Sarah until she awoke.

Once Lucard had left Max swallowed the distance between them in a single stride.

"You have three days." Max warned before he walked off down the hallway just as Thorn appeared. The dog gave Lincoln a low growl of warning before he turned and padded after his master.

"Course I do."

Lincoln spat as he carefully adjusted his hold before carried Sarah out to the car. He walked right past David without even bothering with a goodbye.

It was only when Lucard's presence was no longer felt on the premise that David was able to move again. He waited to make sure that he was alone before he went over to the couch and sunk down onto it. Taking a steadying breath David lowered his hands and stared at them. They were shaking.

The sudden roar of the Chevelle coming to life made David jump and that was enough to prod him into action. David was off the couch and out of the house in a flash just in time to see the headlights of Lincoln's car sweep past him as he pulled out of the driveway and drove off with a screech of tires. Having no stomach to stay anywhere near Max for another minute David yanked out his keys and mounted the Triumph as quickly as he could. He keyed the ignition and kick started the bike to life before he swung the motorcycle in a wide arch and peeled away from Max's house in a shower of gravel, heading straight for the safety of the cave and the others.

However kneeling stock still in the underbrush where they had been able to witness this strange turn of events, Tory and Ian stared off in the direction that David had gone. Both of them did not dare to so much as breathe until they were sure that the coast was finally clear.

"What the actual fuck?" Tory whispered as she and Ian looked at each other in horror.


	8. The Kids Are Back

**Chapter Theme Song:** "The Kids Are Back" by Twisted Sister

* * *

 _Bang! Bang! Bang!_

"Open up! Frogs! Open the damn door or I'll break it down!"

Tory shouted as loudly as she could as she pounded her fists against the locked metal roll-down gates of the Fantasmic Comics, the shop that was owned by the Frog parents but run and maintained by the two brothers.

It hadn't taken Ian and Tory to make the return trip back to the Boardwalk, especially since they had driven at break-neck speed to get as far away from the house in the hills in as little time as possible. Brooke had been surprised to see his bike returned to him before the hour was through but he didn't question them when Tory handed back his keys without so much as a snarky side-comment.

"Tory will you keep it down? You're going to attract the security guards if you keep this up!" Ian hissed between clenched teeth as he glanced around fearfully, fully expecting the brown uniformed guards to be breathing down their necks. If Tory heard him she didn't show it nor she didn't care.

"FROGS! I know you're in there! Open...the...damn...door...!" Tory's voice rose higher and higher as she gave the doors a solid smack. Breathing hard she took a step back and eyed the doors for a second. Ian sighed in relief until Tory snorted and ran at the doors at full speed like a charging bull.

 _Wham!_

"Oh Christ my shoulder!" Tory swore as she hopped around in a circle, cradling her throbbing shoulder with her good hand. Ian muttered something under his breath as he made a grab for Tory but she jerked out of reach before he could touch her.

"Tory they're not here. Let's go already." Ian growled as he stared down his best friend. They were both scared silly but neither of them would outwardly admit it. What they had seen back at the house, neither of them could explain it, but that didn't mean they had to run around the Boardwalk drawing attention to themselves. They didn't know who could be watching from the shadows.

"We are not going anywhere until we get some answers. And they have them." Tory growled back but was the first to look away.

"Screw this."

Tory sniffed and braced her left hand against the door for balance before she raised her foot and began to kick the door for all she was worth. If her shouting didn't attract the Frogs attention then maybe a dented door would.

"Tory!" Ian cried. He remembered to keep his voice lowered but a fat lot of good that did him. All Tory did was shake her head and kick harder.

"Shut up and help me will you?" Tory snapped as she switched feet and began kicking with her left.

"What the hell is your problem!"

Ian jumped a mile when Edgar poked his head out from a small door that was just left of the front gates. He hadn't heard a sound until Edgar spoke up, glaring darkly at Tory who gave the gate a final kick for good measure.

"Whatever." She adjusted her jacket and stomped over to the side door that led to the back of the store.

"Seriously?!" Edgar growled as he kept the door half-closed and refused to budge when Tory tried to brush her way past him. They bristled at each other like a pair of junkyard dogs while Ian gnawed his fingernails down to the quick.

"What's going on?" Alan's voice cut through the tension like a knife.

"We need to talk." Ian stepped forward and gave Edgar a pleading look as he tried to haul Tory back a few steps. Ian could hardly get Tory to do anything she didn't want to do on a good day and today was not a good day. Whenever Tory got seriously freak out, like now, she always went on an aggressive offense compared to his rattled defense.

"Just move will you?" Tory barked as she butted the door with her other shoulder. She managed to force Edgar back a few steps but once again Edgar took a stand and Tory realized that trying to push past this guy was pointless. He was just as stubborn as she was.

"Why should I?"

Neither teen was willing to back down.

"Because you're about a second away from becoming a pirate, that's why." Tory gave Edgar a too-sweet smile as she cracked her knuckles.

Ian knew what was going to happen next. He had seen it all before.

"Tory will you please chill for a second?" Ian got a firm grip on the back of her painted panther jacket and planted himself behind her in a vain attempt to keep her from doing something to the elder Frog that they were all going to seriously regret.

"No."

Typical Tory reply. Ian wasn't surprised. And neither was Edgar.

"You really think that's gonna intimidate me?" Edgar scoffed.

He took a step forward so that he and Tory were standing toe-to-toe in the narrow doorway. Tory looked down at his crossed arms and after a moment she took a step back. Edgar smirked while Ian let out a soft sigh and that was when Tory made her move.

"Damn straight!" Tory barked as she slipped her arms out of her jacket and moved like lightening. Lunging forward Tory grabbed a hold of Edgar's right arm and yanked him forward. With both boys caught by surprised Ian let out a surprised squawk when Tory bumped into him as she ducked and shoved Edgar up against the open door, twisting his arm behind his back. It all happened in the time span of a few seconds and that was all it took for Tory to get Edgar pinned.

Ian hadn't been joking the other night when he said that Tory as liable to pick a fight with a biker gang. Having grown up in a number of foster homes Tory had learned fast how to defend herself. Thanks to an ex-marine that she had lived with for a few months when she was thirteen she was more than capable of switching the odds to her favour.

"Whoa!"

Edgar wheezed as Tory gave his arm a swift jerk.

"Hey! Get your hands off my brother!"

Alan lunged for Tory but jerked his hand back when Tory tried to bite him.

"Back off man!"

Edgar swore under his breath as her grip tightened on his wrist.

"Tory!" Ian tried to pry her off of the Frog but she wasn't having it.

"What do you know about the vampires?" Tory demanded as she shoved Ian out of the way.

"What?"

Edgar gave her a sharp calculating look from the corner of his eye as he stopped struggling.

"You heard me. What's the deal with vampires in Santa Carla?" Tory asked once more.

The trademark Frog Scowl appeared on both Edgar and Alan's faces.

"Why do you want to know? Ow!" Edgar gritted his teeth when Tory jerked his arm just a little higher.

"Never mind why just tell us what you know. All of it."

Tory made sure that the Frog knew that she meant business.

"Let go of my arm."

Edgar just stood there. He wasn't going to say a damn thing until she let him go.

"Then you'll tell me?" Tory asked as she looked at him and then his brother. She tried to read into their identical scowling expressions.

"I haven't decided yet but I won't say anything if you keep touching me."

Edgar chuckled now that he had the upper hand. Tory butted him behind the knee with her own so that he stumbled a bit but Ian finally managed to intervene before Tory got the chance do something else.

"Tory will you let him go? Stop it!"

Tory didn't fight him this time as he pulled her away and shoved the jacket at her. He positioned himself so that he stood as a barrier in order to cut off any chance of payback from the Frogs.

"You better keep your girlfriend on a leash Ian. If she starts crying vampire any louder you're both gonna end up with a set of fangs in your neck." Alan muttered darkly as he stepped forward from the gloom of the narrow hallway and stood at his brother's shoulder as Edgar massaged his wrist.

"She's not my girlfriend." Ian muttered as he flicked his unruly bangs out of his eyes.

"Oh spare me the dramatics." Tory snorted as she shrugged her jacket on and adjusted the leather collar. "So?"

"Hang on."

Edgar stepped back and slammed the door in their faces. Ian gave Tory a warning look when she opened her mouth to object and after a few painful moments Edgar cracked the door opened and motioned for them to enter. Tory flashed Ian a smirk before she stepped inside while Ian gave the now practically empty Boardwalk a final glance.

"Before I say anything, would someone mind telling me why you want to know about vampires all of a sudden?" Edgar questioned as he shut the door once Ian had entered and began to set the five bolts and two chain-link locks that he and his brother had installed months earlier.

"Yeah, I thought that you said you didn't believe in them. Why ask us for help?" Alan did not give Tory or Ian a chance to respond to the first question. With Edgar standing by the door and Alan blocking the way Ian and Tory were sandwiched between the two.

The Frogs weren't taking any chances.

"I'm not asking you for help, I just want to know about the vampires in this town. Is that such a crime?" Tory asked as she kept her face neutral. If they wanted to play that game then fine, she'd play too. She wouldn't give anything away until they begged her to. Something told her that despite their annoyed attitudes the Frogs would practically kill for any real information about vampires.

Edgar and Alan exchanged a look before they turned their attention to Ian.

"Ian?" Alan asked, arching an eyebrow.

It was Tory's turn to scowl.

Ian looked at both brothers and then at Tory before he answered. "It's a long story but you're gonna want to hear it."

That was good enough for the Frogs.

"Alright. Come with us. But if you breathe a word about what you see we will personally hunt you down and shut you up for good. Got it?" Edgar growled as Alan turned around and led the way down the narrow hallway. Everyone stopped and looked at Tory as Edgar waited for a response.

"Yeah, fine, whatever okay?" Tory muttered and rolled her eyes.

"This way." Alan jerked his head and they followed him in single file. There were two doors at the end of the hallway and Alan stopped in front of the one on the right. Digging into the pocket of his camo pants he produced a key and unlocked the door. He held it open as Edgar ushered Ian and Tory in and once they had all entered the pitch-black room, llan shut the door and locked it.

"Just to let you know we don't have night vision." Tory piped up when she accidentally bumped into Ian as she tried to feel her way in the dark. Edgar felt his way along the wall and flipped the light switch. Instantly the room was filled with blinding light from four different light sources. Ian and Tory instantly put their arms up to shield their eyes and Alan nodded in satisfaction when they didn't go up in smoke.

"They're cool." He said and Edgar killed the UV lights before switching on the normal overhead ones.

"Whoa."

Ian stared slack-jawed at the room. Tory had to blink twice to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

Every inch of wall space was either painted black or covered with cut-outs of every single monster known to man-kind. On the far side of the room was a roughly made work-bench with tools of every sort scattered on it while a huge poster of Twisted Sister sneered down at the four from the wall. A large grey stacked toolbox sat in the corner. On it was a huge tarnished silver crucifix that had to be an antique. It was surrounded by a number of hand-carved crosses that Edgar had made himself and a pile of newly made wooden stakes were stacked up neatly on the ground beside the tool box. That was just Edgar's side of the room.

On the other side books of all sorts pertaining to the paranormal were stacked in tottering piles that surrounded a battered old two-seater couch that had stuffing coming out of the arms. Covering the couch was a layer of comic books two inches deep. Each one of them dealt with vampires, werewolves, zombies, ghouls, warlocks, aliens and just about anything else that could be of some use to the Frog's monster fighting enterprise. Tory's eyebrows shot up when she caught sight of an honest-to-goodness human skull that grinned at her on a three-legged table covered in glass beakers, flasks, and jars filled with liquids of every constancy and colour imaginable. Something that smelled like a cross between old gym-socks and wild garlic bubbled away in a small pot on a battered looking hotplate.

"Talk about intense." Ian muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Tory just nodded.

"Do your parents know about this?" She asked Alan who just gave her an unreadable shrug and went over to the table covered in glass to lower the temperature of the hotplate. Tory watched in fascination as he stirred the concoction and scooped out a bit of it with a ladle.

"You're not gonna eat that are you?" She asked as she wrinkled her nose at the smell.

"No."

Alan carefully poured the pea-soup looking goop into a glass vial that he quickly corked and marked with a permanent marker.

"So, do you mind telling us why you tried to break into the shop in the middle of the night?" Edgar asked as he picked up a half-hewn stake and sat down on a stool before he started to sand it into a fine point.

Ian and Tory looked at each other and Tory subtly tilted her head to the side. _Go on!_

"Okay. Do you remember the girl from last night?" Ian began as Tory carefully picked her way through Alan's maze of books and cautiously moved aside some of the comics so that she could sit down on the edge of the couch. Alan's eyes followed her like a hawk but he didn't say anything as he went about arranging a few things on his table.

"The one who thinks that monsters have a soul?" Edgar snorted as he blew away a collection of wood particles as he switched out the wad of sandpaper for another.

"Uh, yeah. Well she was supposed to meet up with us tonight and then she didn't."

Ian ran his hand through his hair while Alan chuckled to himself.

"I wonder why?"

"We figured that she bailed on us but then we saw her with the leader of that biker gang that everyone's so afraid of. You know the one I'm talking about right?" Ian asked the brothers. Edgar paused for a moment to think about it.

"Is it the gang that has that one guy who looks like Twisted Sister?" He motioned to the poster that was behind him.

"I think so. The leader, well I think he's the leader, wears all black and has a blonde mullet."

Alan nodded.

"Yeah Mullet Guy. They're the ones that always go into Video Max to piss off the manager. So she was with him. So what?"

"So what? She was on that guy's bike and you know the rumours. Girls that are seen with those guys are never seen again."

Alan ignored Tory's growls as he continued to spoon out his concoction into various flasks and tubes in order to watch the reaction it had with other solutions.

"So, like, we followed them to see where they were going. Because like what Tory said we knew the rumours and we figured that Betty would need backup. And ah..." Ian trailed off as he looked over at Tory who shook her head. He was going to be the one to tell the story not her.

"And what?" Edgar asked as he blew on the sharpened tip of the stake and tested its point against his palm.

"Well, we followed them to this house up in the estates. Big place, in the hills, lots of trees, hard to spot from the roadside. The guy's bike was in the driveway so we figured that they had gone inside. We hid ourselves in the bushes but before we could get close to the house we heard screaming and some sort of commotion going on inside."

Ian shuddered at the memory as a ghostly chill ran down his spine. Both Edgar and Alan had fixed their full attention on Ian.

"Was it her? The screaming?" Alan asked.

Ian shrugged.

"We think so. We didn't see anything but it...it sounded like her." Ian swallowed hard and scratched the back of his head in agitation. Edgar remained silent for a while as he carefully went over it all in his head. No one said anything until he spoke up.

"Then what happened?" He asked quietly, his eyes never leaving Ian's face.

"It got quiet and Tory...well Tory said that we should call the police or something. Then this, this guy came out of the house. I don't think he's from around here. I mean I'd remember someone like that if he did. He...he walked out of the house and then he was gone."

Ian looked from one Frog to the other thinking that they thought he probably nuts or something. But they didn't.

"Gone? How?" There was a hint of excitement in Alan's voice as he went over to his book piles and quickly scanned through them to find one in particular.

"Just gone. He was there one minute and then whoosh, gone the next. It was like he flew away or something...but we didn't seem him do that. We didn't see anything really." Tory added quickly as she watched Alan select a thick black book with a cracked spine from one of the piles.

"You wouldn't. Vampires move faster than we can and then there are times when they move so fast we can't even see them. If this guy flew away, you wouldn't have seen it happen. Heard it maybe but not see it." Alan informed them as he quickly flipped through the book and then put it down when it didn't have what he was looking for.

"Move over for a second." He told Tory as he began to rifle through his comic book collection.

"Is that it?" Edgar asked Ian as Tory moved to the other arm of the couch so that Alan could shift through the comics.

Ian shook his head.

"Another guy came out of the house. This guy Edgar, he looked like a Hell's Angels worst nightmare or something. He was...he was carrying Betty."

Ian had to sit down on the floor because everything that he saw in his mind's eye made him sick to his stomach.

Edgar put down the wooden stake and walked over to Ian.

"How'd she look? Was she...did she have any marks or anything?" Edgar asked but quickly caught himself from saying something that Ian and Tory probably didn't want to hear.

It was Tory who answered for Ian with a shake of her head.

"No. It was too dark and they were too far away. We couldn't make out much. But we saw the guy's car all right. A big old '70's Chevy Chevelle LS6, black with two white stripes. I'd recognize that car anywhere. It was a real road monster. He drove off with Betty and then Mullet Guy came out of the house and took off. He didn't fly or anything. Just got on his bike and booked it. We got a good look at him though and he did not look happy."

Edgar paced the crowded room deep in thought while Alan gave up the search for the comic issue he was looking for.

"You two have heard about the murders on the bad side of town right?" Edgar asked Ian and Tory as an idea hit him.

"Who hasn't? Everyone's getting paranoid over them. They say it's a serial killer that's on the loose and that they're close to finding the guy." Tory repeated what she had heard on the radio that afternoon.

Edgar and Alan snorted at the same time and shook their heads.

"It's not a serial killer. Serial killers don't drain the blood from their victims and tear their throats out." Alan glanced down at his wristwatch to check the time.

"So you're saying that vampires are responsible for all those murders?" Ian asked as Edgar sat back down on his stool.

"Yeah and we think that you two might have found the ones responsible for them." Edgar said as he turned around and opened one of the shelves of his tool box and reached for something in it.

"Well hurray for us. Call the news people and give us the key to the city. BUT how do we find our friend?" Tory interrupted as Edgar began to pull out a number of metal files and other small hand-held tools.

"Forget your friend. She's probably pitched into the tide or buried somewhere where no one can find her body." Edgar muttered as he yanked open another shelf and pulled out a small plastic bottle of holy oil.

Tory's eyes widened and she grabbed the nearest book, an annotated hard copy of Bram Stoker's _Dracula_ , and threw it at the back of Edgar;'s head.

"Don't you tell us to just forget her! What kind of monster hunter are you? We want to know how we can get our friend back and you are going to tell us!"

"Tory calm down. Look guys we came here to find out about the vampires and how to kill them. We don't even know if the people we saw even were vampires but Betty is our friend, she's one of us, and we can't just sit here while some...fanged freaks use her as a midnight snack. If you don't want to help us, fine. We didn't come to start anything with you guys but you two are the only ones who know about this stuff." Ian said as Tory stepped around the books so that she could stand beside him.

"Don't worry, those guys are vampires."

Alan was smart enough to remain where he was.

"So then why don't you guys help us do something about it?" Tory baited her words with sarcasm. "What? Are you afraid of the big bad vampires?"

"Why should we? She's your friend not ours. And we are not afraid." Edgar growled without bothering to look over his shoulder as he quickly worked with his tools on something that Tory could not make out from where she were stood.

"Well you're sure as hell acting like you are." Tory retorted. Ian didn't even bother to try to smooth that one over.

"Listen. We just want to make sure if Betty's still alive. If she is then we'll figure out how to help her and if she's not...well...then at least we know. And if there really are vampires involved in this mess then it's up to you guys to figure out what to do because you are the experts! Not us. Isn't this what you do anyways? Hunt the monsters? Save the day?"

Ian motioned to all of the monster pictures and paraphernalia that were on the walls.

"Let's just say, theoretically speaking, that we were to help you guys on this wild goose chase. Where would we start? If we go anywhere near that house we're liable to get discovered because the moneybags who live up there have personal security patrolling that neighbourhood night and day. If we get caught it's game over for everyone because whoever lives in that house will know what we're on to him. And those two other guys you saw they are probably long gone by now. No one in Santa Carla has a car like that muscle car except for Crooked Jack who runs the auto shop uptown and he has a Roadrunner...," Alan trailed off as he looked over at his brother.

"We could ask him if he's heard anything about a Chevelle. If anyone would know, he would."

"And if he hasn't, then what? We search every town along the coast from here to Los Angeles for the car?" Edgar muttered over his shoulder as he attacked what he was working on with a pair of pliers.

"What about Mullet Guy? He's a part of all this. Last night Betty told us that she was hanging with a bunch of homeless guys near here. She could have meant those bikers...why is beyond me, but it sure looked like it from our point of view." Tory said as she caught on to the Frogs train of thought. It might not mean much but it had to be some sort of a lead.

"You said that those guys always hang around Video Max right? Well what if we followed them from there?" Ian threw out a random idea from the top of his head and everyone looked at him.

It was as if someone had turned on the metaphorical light bulbs over their heads.

"It could work..." Alan began as he waited for Edgar to say something. He took his cue from his brother and if they were going to help Ian and Tory it would have to be on Edgar's say so.

The three of them waited as Edgar continued to fiddle with his tools and he didn't say anything until he was done. Putting down his file, he rose from the stool and turned around. In each hand he held one of his small hand-made wooden crosses with each of the four ends filed down into sharp points. Silver wire was wrapped around the middle of each of cross so that they could be easily hooked onto a belt. Both crosses were covered in a glaze of holy oil that once dried would prove to be a fool-proof emergency vampire ward.

"If your friend is still alive, and there's a damn good chance she's not, then we don't have a lot of time." Edgar handed Tory and Ian the crosses. "Keep those on you at all times 'cause you never know when you might need them and they sure beat having to carry around one of the big ones. Less conspicuous this way."

"So you're going to help us?" Tory asked as she looked down at her cross and then up at Edgar.

"I want you two to give us a full description of everyone you saw and tell us what exactly you know about vampires before we fill you in on what we know." Edgar sat back down on his stool and pulled out a pad of lined yellow paper and a pencil from underneath a pile of MAD magazines that were lying near his feet. "We gotta know exactly what we're up against."

"It's one." Alan said as he lifted up his wrist and motioned to his watch.

"Right, we got a lot to cover before sunrise." Edgar muttered to himself as he began to jot down notes on a blank page.

"What happens at sunrise?" Tory asked as she and Ian exchanged a look and shrugged. Well, it wasn't like their parents were going to be scouring the streets with a search party looking for them if they didn't get home before sunup.

"We start looking and asking around. Your friend has twenty-four hours and then it's curtains." Edgar replied and with that they got down to business as the digital numbers on Alan's watch counted away the hours.

None of the teenagers suspected that by the same time tomorrow they were all going to wish that they had never heard of the words vampires or Video Max before.


	9. Brain Damage

**Author's Note: Lincoln is always on a permanent high of some sort.** **If I didn't know better I'd say that he could have given Motley Crue a run for their money. Sure explains a lot.**

 **Chapter Theme Song:** "Brain Damage" by Pink Floyd

* * *

 _Tick...tick...tick...tick...tick...tick..._

 **Dong!**

Lincoln cracked open an eye as the echoing brass chime from an ornate grandfather clock jolted him back into the present.

 **Dong!**

"Ah Christ."

Lincoln stretched lazily and shook his head. It took him a few tries before he managed to hoist himself into a sitting position. He groped around for his leather jacket that was folded across the back of the plush leather four-seater he was sprawled on.

"What time s'it?" He muttered as he dug through the various pockets of the jacket before he came up with a half-empty bottle of extra strength eye drops. Tilting his head back Lincoln quickly squeezed a few drops into each eye and closed them tightly for a minute.

 **Dong!**

The sun was almost up. He could feel the pull deep in his bones. Now would be the time for bloodsuckers to hole up deep in the shadows in order to sleep off a night of bloodletting and mayhem. As wonderful as that would have been Lincoln was not meant to enjoy in the dreamless sleep-state of the grateful undead.

Whereas Max chose to put his personal safety in the jaws of a half-crazed wonder mutt to watch over him while he slept the Baron used Lincoln's biological glitch to make sure that any would-be assailants never got past the front door.

 **Dong!**

Lincoln was an insomniac.

It was his "Achilles Heel". Every vampire had one and his was a downright pain in the ass.

Sleep for him meant half-an-hour to an hour a day if he was lucky. His inability to go cold during the daylight hours explained the bloodshot eyes, hair-trigger temper, and the insanity. Twenty-one years of being unable to fully recharge the old battery had driven him around the bend and into the stratosphere.

"I fuckin' hate not bein' able to _sleeeeeeeeeergh_."

He stretched once more, reaching up toward the ceiling until he felt his shoulders pop.

 **Dong!**

When the old clock continued to tick away steadily he calculated that it was five o'clock in the morning. The sun rose at five fifteen in the sunshine state and Lincoln had his marching orders. The Boss wanted the kid awake right before dawn and now was the time.

Lincoln sighed, scratched his chin, and promptly slapped himself across the face as hard as he could in order to jumpstart his brain. It seemed to do the trick.

"Right."

Lincoln shoved himself off the couch and padded out of the well-furnished living room and meandered into the kitchen for a quick fix. Not bothering to watch where he was going Lincoln rubbed his hands over his face and opened the fridge. It was one of those large modernized double-door numbers that he kept well-stocked with the essentials.

Blood, beer, and premium Russian vodka.

Lincoln grabbed a large glass bottle that was half-filled with blood and kicked the fridge door closed. He unscrewed the cap and tossed it onto the polished marble countertop before he opened the liquor cabinet below and withdrew a bottle of aged scotch whiskey. Despite his sluggish movements Lincoln did not spill a drop of liquor as he emptied the contents of the amber bottle into the half-litre of AB positive. The bottle was chucked into a garbage can that was hidden under the sink because his Boss would have his hide if he didn't clean up after himself.

The spiked concoction was given a thorough shake before he took a lengthy swig of the stuff and belched.

"Now that's some good joe."

Smacking his lips Lincoln wandered bleary-eyed out of the kitchen with the bottle in hand and headed for the wrought-iron spiral staircase that led up to the second floor. He started up the stairs just as the front door opened. Lucard entered the high-end estate home without so much as a rattle of keys.

The old vampire moved like a ghost but Lincoln wasn't bothered by it. Lincoln wasn't bothered by anything. He was still drifting on a happy little quaalude he had taken earlier.

"Impeccable timin' as always Boss." Lincoln grinned and took another swing from the bottle. "I's just about to wake the kid."

"I know." Lucard responded as he closed the door behind him and locked it. Lincoln draped himself over the metal banister as he watched the large framed hallway reflect the master vampire in its spotless surface. The wall behind the mirror seemed to shift and dance with the shadows.

"Should I ask what you have been up to all night?" Lucard asked as he unbuttoned the first two buttons of his stiff-collared shirt and place his keys onto the elegant Chippendale writing desk that served as the foyer table.

"Ab- _so_ -lute-ly nothin'. Well babysittin' but that was borin' as hell."

Lincoln shrugged and scraped his sharp pinky nail over his front teeth.

"It was good that you followed through with what I told you. The whole of California now falls under Von Ruben's jurisdiction and belongs to him. We are now guests in his territory. So whatever it is that you have been doing up until now, it stops."

Lucard mounted the stairs and Lincoln trailed after him, guzzling noisily without a care. "So no more triple homicides in the red light district."

Lincoln lowered the bottle and grinned slyly as the old vampire gave him a knowing look.

"C'mon. You gotta admit it was a good idea."

"I will admit nothing. Whatever rivalry you have with your brother is between the two of you and I will have no part it in. But whatever you do now you will be solely responsible for it and I will not protect you if you get caught. And you will, if you care to remember a certain train yard incident."

Lincoln's crafty sneer quickly changed into a painful grimace.

"Man I'd love ta take a piece outta that bastard." Lincoln growled darkly as he stared moodily off into space. His eyes tracked things that only his damaged mind could comprehend.

"As would I but now is not the time nor the place. Von Ruben will get what is coming to him sooner or later Lincoln, even if you are not the one to give it."

Lucard clapped Lincoln on the shoulder when Lincoln muttered some foul oath of vengeance under his breath.

"Yeah well I'd like to see how he deals with the police crawlin' around the place and pointin' fingers. Two of his boys still have their criminal records on file with the state so things should get interestin' real soon. Especially when the motel makes headline news."

Lincoln took another long swallow from the bottle and offered it to Lucard who declined with a wave of his hand.

"What motel?"

Lincoln smirked and ran the back of his hand over his mouth. "You'll see."

"I have no doubt I will." Lucard snorted but not in a disapproving way. "Tomorrow night I must put a few things to rest so I am leaving you in charge of getting Sarah comfortable and accustomed to our ways. Teach her how to be one of us but make sure that she does not pick up any of your bad habits."

"What bad habits?" Lincoln asked as he followed the master down a wide hallway that was lined with doors and richly framed paintings. "I don't got bad habits."

"Lincoln you are a bad habit."

Lucard chuckled as he stopped outside a closed door.

"Well hell, I can't help bein' what I am anymore'n you can." He snorted as he leaned against the wall and ran his free hand through his tousled hair. A second later he yawned and his jaw cracked under the pressure. "Dang."

"Now is not the time to debate matters of opinions." Lucard sniffed as he massaged the bridge of his nose. The sun close to the horizon. It was only a matter of time before he succumbed to the inevitable that only Lincoln seemed to be somewhat immune to.

"Make sure to double-check the perimeter and do not leave incense burning for a long period of time. You know I cannot tolerate the smell."

"Will do." Lincoln grinned and raised his bottle in a mock salute. "That wasn't incense I was burnin'."

"Why you will not pursue the delightful embrace of the poppy instead of that disgusting garden weed is beyond me."

Lucard shook his head and twisted the door handle gently. Slowly the door swung open.

"Right Boss. I'll see ya later. G'night...mornin'...whatever."

Lincoln waved lazily as he continued down the hallway humming a Pink Floyd tune off-key. When he made it to his own quarters he missed the doorknob on the first try before he managed to stumble inside without too much difficulty.

Lucard heaved a tired sigh before he stepped into the darkened bedroom and closed the door. Despite the pitch-black interior his eyes gave off a predatory gleam. He easily made out the small figure lying deathly still on the queen sized canopy bed. He moved toward the covered window at the far end of the room with the self-assured grace of a large hunting cat. It was old habit that made him check to make sure that the heavy blackout blinds and thick drapes that engulfed the window were properly installed.

Lincoln had done his job well and the small bedroom had become an impenetrable sanctuary from daylight.

The Master Vampire swayed forward as the instinctive lull of unconsciousness intensified. Outside those walls the sun had begun to creep into the sky.

He did not have much time. There was still one last thing to be done.


	10. Heart Of Gold

Chapter Theme Song: "Heart of Gold" by Neil Young

* * *

Lying on a nest of pillows Sarah looked years younger than sixteen. The delicate innocence that had drawn both Max and the old Master to her was plain to see. There was only one thing that marred the image of her youthful frailty. There were dark bruise-like rings under her eyes and her unnaturally pale complexion that had intensified more so after the events of that night.

Marking was always a strenuous ritual on both the master and fledgling vampire. It took time before both vampires fully recovered. The aftereffects were typically felt for a few days as the body adjusted to the new bond that was forged. Once set it was nigh impossible to break.

That was why in vampire society the fledgling trade was considered to be the most influential way a vampire could achieve rank and title as well as new territory. Alliances were created between vampires while territorial borders were adjusted in order to comply with the terms that were negotiated.

Blood never lies. Blood always binds.

Lucard remained silent as he watched Sarah. After a time he reached over and gently brushed away a few strands of her hair from her face. As he did so the girl reacted to his touch.

Already the sacred bond between them was growing in strength. This was a good sign. It offered a fleeting feeling that the old vampire regarded as hope.

He waited patiently as Sarah slowly joined him in the realm of the undead.

Sarah groaned when she opened her eyes and quickly shut them. Even though the room was completely dark her eyes stung, dry and irritated. A powerful wave of nausea swept over her and she gagged into a pillow next to her head.

"It is all right." Lucard murmured softly as he took a white linen handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped away the streak of blood that was coughed up.

She winced at his touch but did not shy from his hand. Her entire body felt out of sorts and impossibly heavy. As if her limbs had somehow atrophied or turned to lead.

Everything hurt. Every inch of her from the ends of her hair to the bottom of her feet. It was unbearable.

The heavy down filled duvet under her, the feather-filled pillows around her, even her clothes seemed to be the cause of discomfort. Sarah did not try to move because instinct told her that the soreness she felt would only intensify.

"Light..."

She wheezed weakly. Her teeth ached as she tried to articulate that one word. There was nothing but darkness in that bedroom. The bright gleam of Lucard's eyes irritated her own but there was nothing that could be done about it.

Lucard folded the bloodied handkerchief and placed it on the night-table.

"It is all right."

He reassured her once again and waited as Sarah struggled to open her eyes once more. The Master noted with a hint of satisfaction that her eyes almost glowed in the encompassing gloom. It was a sure sign of recovery.

The brighter the eyes the stronger the will to live.

Two of the other of Max's girls had not made it this far before they given up. They had wasted away in a matter of hours.

A single fat tear slowly trickled from the corner of her eye as Sarah forced herself to look up at the figure that towered over her. Prone and helpless she wanted to know why she was that way. But it hurt too much to speak.

She hissed in pain as the salty tear began to sting her skin. Lucard wiped it away with such care and gentleness as if she were a newborn infant.

The first hours were crucial in securing a fledgling's faith and loyalty to its new Master. Once the fledgling developed an imprinted dependency on the stronger vampire the bond formed would be unbreakable.

"It hurts...god it...hurts...why?"

Sarah whimpered as her eyes filled with thick bloody tears. As they spilled onto her tender skin Lucard wiped them away. One after another after another.

"I know. I know." He whispered. Every whimper, every cry she made was reflected back onto him until it suddenly became overwhelming.

Lucard paced the room as his mind swam from the conflicting emotions that he channeled from Sarah. He had to lean his back against the wall and his broad shoulders sagged forward under the weight of everything he had to bare.

Age, responsibility, power, the past, loneliness...all this pressed down on the master vampire as he watched Sarah tremble in the darkness.

How many times had he gone through this? How many times had he been faced with failure? All those girls never made it. Each of their deaths had sliced him to the core and each time it became a little more difficult to handle.

There was only so much that he could take but under no circumstance must he allow himself to become overwhelmed. If he wallowed in a melancholy stupor he would present himself as a target to his rivals and enemies, of which he had many.

Once the word went out that old Lucard was no longer fit to govern the territories or sit at council it would only be a matter of days before he was taken out by another vampire, one who wished to take his place. That was the way things were. It was how vampires had managed to survive in the ever-changing fast-paced world.

It was the survival of the fittest and the old Master was playing a deadly game with time. A game that had proven time and time again that it would always win in the end.

 _"Y'alright boss?"_

Lincoln voice was edged with concern as he sent Lucard a mental nudge.

His bond with the old vampire was exceptional. He could always feel when something was amiss with his master. No matter the distance between them. It was what made him the ideal bodyguard and it certainly made other vampires very uneasy. More than once Lincoln's finely tuned sense had allowed him to bail Lucard out of some pretty nasty situations in the nick of time.

 _"I am fine."_

 _"No you're not. You're even givin' me a headache. So what's the verdict?"_

Lucard breathed in deeply out of habit as he watched Sarah.

 _"I think she will make it."_

The old vampire could feel Lincoln's grin in his mind.

 _"Sure she ain't much t'look at but that little spitfire'll fight it through, you'll see."_

 _"Are you always so sure of everything?"_

 _"Sure am. If I weren't, I'd be dead."_

Lincoln's voice laughed in Lucard's head. The Master permitted Lincoln the opportunity to take good look at the newest addition to their little family through his eyes.

 _"You think she'll take after me?"_

Lucard growled softly and Sarah whimpered fretfully at the sound.

 _"Lord I hope not."_

 _"Why's that?"_

 _"Lincoln one of you is more than enough for this world."_

 _"That's because I'm special. You want me to get you anythin'? You feel like you're ready for the grave and Boss that's puttin' it nicely."_

 _"I thank you for your concern but no. I will be staying in here today. It is too soon to leave and the sun is on the rise. When was the last time you had more than two hours of sleep?"_

Lucard carefully sat down on the far edge of the large bed before he began to untie his shoes. A proper gentleman never slept in footwear unlike Lincoln who was prone to sleeping in everything or nothing at all.

 _"Good question. Hmmm. Probably a month now."_

 _"You do not need me to remind you what happens when you go too long without getting more than a few hours to balance yourself out. I do not want a repeat of what happened in Berlin."_

 _"Well I can't do nothin' about that now can I? Unless someone whacks me one over the head with a bat and half the time that don't work. I friggin' hate this. Why do I get to be the one with the sleep disorder? Aren't us vamps supposed to go cold durin' the day?"_

 _"You know I could do it if you would permit me."_

 _"Temptin', I swear, but I got you and the kid to worry about now. What if somethin' happens while I'm out?"_

 _"Lincoln if I know Von Ruben he will not dare try anything until I have made the agreement public and notified the other Masters. Until then he will keep to himself and tolerate my presence on his land. I think Sarah and I will be perfectly fine for a few hours."_

 _"I dunno Bossman. I don't trust that guy as far as I can throw him and I could toss his sorry ass into another state if given half the chance."_

 _"You are never going to let that train yard incident go are you?"_

 _"What d'you think? I'll get that bastard one day, you wait and see. I'll get him good. Real good."_

 _"Maybe but not today."_

 _"Yeah I guess. Anyways, you do what you gotta do and I'll try to amuse myself with Regis. See you at sundown."_

Being a master vampire meant that it fell solely upon him to look after the needs and wants of his fledglings. If Lincoln needed to be forcefully knocked out to prevent him from going off the deep end due to excessive exhaustion then Lucard made sure that Lincoln received his precious few hours of solid rest every month or two.

Lincoln would brood about it for a day or so but like most things concerning the insomniac vampire, he would soon get over it.

As for Sarah he had to do whatever he could to ease her discomfort. Feeling very much like a doting parent the Master vampire shifted beside her.

"Don't leave...please."

She tried to focus on him but all she saw was a bloody blur.

He gathered her hands in his and mused over how petite they were. Fragile dove wings compared to his massive paws that could easily crush a man's skull on a whim.

"I will be right here."

He reached over and gently brushed the calloused tips of his fingers across her forehead. Concentrating for a moment he willed his new fledgling into a deep untroubled sleep. Without so much as a cry Sarah drifted off into peaceful oblivion where discomfort and fear could not reach her.

When he was satisfied that the pillows were arranged so that she was safely cocooned Lucard stretched out on the bed. Like an old dragon with a precious treasure in its clutches the Master vampire carefully positioned himself beside Sarah. Possessive and protective nothing would disturb them on this crucial day.

He would destroy anything that thought otherwise.

"Come to me in my dreams, and then by day I shall be well again for so the night will more than pay the hopeless longing of the day..."

Lucard's deep voice murmured the words of Matthew Arnold as the sun broke over the horizon. As he drifted off instinct took over and the bright predatory glare of his eyes dimmed before they closed. He was utterly dead to the world when the songbirds began to greet the new day but their cheerful songs fell upon deafened ears.


	11. Playing With The Boys

Chapter Theme Song: "Playing with the Boys" by Kenny Loggins

* * *

The sun had been up for hours before the Frog Brothers could leave the confines of their workshop. It had taken them longer than expected to wrap up the blitzed Vampires 101 information session that they had put Ian and Tory through. There had been a lot of information that had to be covered and they did not figure on Tory asking them so many questions.

Despite the rising mid-afternoon heat it did not take Edgar and Alan as long as they had anticipated to reach the auto body shop that was owned and run by Santa Carla's very own "Crooked" Jack Roster. Despite the garage's location there was nothing uptown about the Rosters little family run business.

Having been around since the 50's, when it was started up by Jack Roster Senior, the mediocre chop shop had survive nearly forty years by specializing in customizing and maintaining high-end performance vehicles. In the wealthy suburbs of Santa Carla there were always cars that needed a fine tuning and Jack Rosters was the only one for miles that had the know how on how to spruce up a European engine without breaking any laws...or all of them.

The Frog's bikes skidded to a halt as they eyed the opened garage with matching guarded expressions. Technically they had no right to be anywhere near the place seeing that they looked like down-town street waifs on five speed trick bikes. The people of the "Uptown" despised anything that remotely resembled the underprivileged and with the way the Frogs looked that morning they knew that they were less than welcome.

"We going in?" Alan asked as he stared down a middle-aged man that sat behind the wheel of a polished yellow Corvette that must have clocked in at the mid six figures. The man gave him an unimpressed once over and Alan sneered in retaliation before the guy sped off down the street, only to stop at a stop sign two seconds later.

"Might as well."

Edgar tied a green bandana around his head while he focused on the people in the garage like a hawk.

"You sure this is gonna work?"

Alan motioned to the ragged green backpack that was strapped across Edgar's back.

"It better."

It was already 2:48 pm. They had until 5 o'clock before they were supposed to rendezvous with Ian and Tory back at the Boardwalk to discuss their findings and figure out how to initialize Phase 2 of their plan.

The two exchanged uncertain looks before they hopped their bikes over the curb and coasted towards the garage. It was Monday and the activity in and around the garage was minimal which was just the way the Frogs wanted it.

Less people around meant fewer witnesses.

"What do you two think you're doing?"

A voice called out as a twenty-something mechanic wearing greased coveralls appeared from the depths of the garage. The Frogs hopped off their bikes and braced them against the side of the building.

"Where's Jack Roster?"

Alan asked as he and his brother stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the man. The guy just scratched his chin which was already covered with a five o'clock shadow.

"Not in today."

The mechanic crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging under the rolled denim sleeves. The Frogs got the message loud and clear but they persisted none the less.

"We were told to drop-in today. We have a delivery for him."

Edgar lowered his voice and glanced over at his backpack, sending the man his own message. The man, whose dirtied name patch spelled out Pete on his chest, looked the two over for a minute. When they didn't squirm under his stare like most of the gopher kids did he nodded his head and motioned for the two to follow him.

Alan raised his eyebrows at his brother as they trailed after the mechanic. So Edgar was right about Jack Roster's underground side-job. From the looks of it Crooked Jack had his hand in more than just the illegal street racing circles of Santa Carla.

"Touch anything and you pay for it." Pete the mechanic growled over his shoulder as he weaved his way around a classic cherry red 50's Ford Convertible that was being worked on by another mechanic who was just as big as Pete. Standing in a garage filled with expensive cars and guys who looked like they could easily bench press more than the Frogs weight combined, Edgar and Alan could not help but feel uneasy.

"Hey Jack!" Pete barked as he opened the office door that was located at the back of the garage. "Mike, where'd Jack go?"

"Out back, working on the Roadrunner." Mike, another mechanic, replied without bothering to look up from what he was doing.

"This way." Pete said and the Frogs obediently followed without a word. The mechanic led them out a side door and into a high-fenced yard behind the garage that housed the remains of a number of European sports cars as well as a decent number of American muscle cars of every shape and size.

Edgar eyed the ten foot fence with the coils of barb wire that ran across the top while Alan quickly scanned for an exit. Aside from the door they had just come from the only way in and out of the yard was a padlocked service gate that led to the street. Snoozing alongside the service gate were three very big and very dangerous looking Rottweilers with leather spiked collars around their thick beefy necks. Alan could not tell if they were chained to anything but he was not about to go over there to find out.

"Hey Jack! There's some kids who want to see you."

"Wadda they want?" A gruff voice replied from somewhere under a car that sat off to the side.

"They say they have a delivery for you."

The two brothers ogled at the hulking racer that was reputed to never have lost a bout on the track in years. Everyone who knew anything about the streets of Santa Carla knew about the Roadrunner. It was a 1971 Plymouth Roadrunner painted a vibrant lime green with black accenting along the roof. On the driver's side there was a mean-looking cartoon figure of the Loony Tunes Roadrunner going at top speed.

"Leave them here."

The voice growled and Pete simply turned and walked back into the garage without a second thought.

The notorious Jack Roster Junior slid out from under his car and the Frogs did a double take. They had expected someone covered in tattoos, big, mean and thuggish but when they saw the man who was reputed to be the Big Cheese of street racing on the Western seaboard all they could do was gawk.

The guy was a Brat Pack clone!

 _He looks like Charlie Sheen._

That was the exact thought that ran simultaneously through Edgar and Alan'a heads.

"What do you want?" Jack asked them as he wiped his hands with an oily rag. The afternoon sunlight shone off his perfectly kept hair. He must have been in his mid twenties and had the looks of a movie star. Here was a guy who should be spending his days on a beach being fawned over by girls not getting his hands dirty with axel grease and engine oil.

"You're Crooked Jack?" Edgar asked, still unsure of himself.

"Yeah. So do you two mind telling me what you're doing here and I know it's not to make a drop. You're not the type that gets sent on a delivery run."

Jack pointed out as he leaned over and picked up a few tools that where lying near the front tire of his car.

Alan nudged Edgar with his shoulder but Edgar just waved him off as he stepped forward.

"We don't want to take up any more of your time but we're wondering if you could help us with some information."

Edgar started off as he tried to make himself sound older and more sure of himself than he really felt.

"Information? Now why would I tell you boys anything?"

Jack laughed as he deposited his tools into a small tool box that sat on the hood of the Roadrunner, turning his back to the brothers. Edgar pressed on however while Alan kept an eye on the dogs.

Alan hated dogs, especially the big ones. Far too many teeth.

"Word has it that you're the guy to come to about anything to do with cars and we were wondering if you have anything on a specific car that has recently shown up in town."

Edgar walked around the front of the car so that he was facing Jack.

"Interesting observation. I might know something, I might not."

Edgar took a step back so that he was not touching the car and took off his backpack. He refused to break eye contact as he unzipped it and pulled out a comic book sheathed in a reinforced protective plastic cover.

"Would this help your memory at all?" Edgar asked as he held up the comic book. He positioned it so that the back of the thin book faced Jack.

"A comic book? Kid don't waste my time."

Jack laughed and Edgar tossed the book down onto the hood of the car so that everyone could see its cover. Alan's eyes shifted from the dogs so that he could watch the guy's face but Jack had a poker face that could not be read.

"Why would I be interested in some stupid comic book?" Jack asked after a moment, looking from one Frog to the other with a bored expression on his face.

Edgar and Alan looked at each other before they both zeroed in on Jack's right hand. Fitted perfectly on the third finger of his hand was a platinum Green Lantern ring, complete with a polished precision cut emerald.

"It's a first edition issue of the first issue of the Green Lantern, The Planet of Doomed Men. Mint condition. Impossible to find and worth about as much as this car."

Edgar allowed himself a small smirk as he watched Jack's eyes brighten with interest.

"No shit."

Jack reached for the comic but Alan snatched it up before he could touch it.

"How's that memory of yours?"

Alan asked as he carefully held the edition out of arm's reach.

"Pretty good. What do you want to know?"

If Jack had a weakness aside from cars and girls it was comic books. Green Lantern DC comic books to be exact. Edgar had done his homework.

"What's the deal with a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle that's been seen around town? It's black with two white racing stripes."

"A Chevelle? No one own's a 70's Chevelle in Santa Carla. A few 60s models for sure but not a 70. If there was one I'd be the guy driving it."

Jack replied when Alan moved away, taking the comic book with him.

"We figured that already. What do you know about it? I don't think it's here for the surfing."

"I haven't seen it myself but I've heard people talking about the car you described. Some tough looking redneck drives it. Last I heard it came into town about a few days go and left last night."

"Last night? Do you know where it went?"

Edgar pushed as Alan made a mental note of everything Jack was saying. Everything would come in handy when they tried to figure out who and what they were going up against.

"No idea. A friend of mine saw it on Route 1 going fast enough to break about every speed law in California. Looks like it was heading toward Los Angeles but it's impossible to tell. There was something about the driver though."

Jack looked up from eyeing his ring as he remembered something.

Edgar and Alan held themselves in check as they waited for what Jack was about to say. This could be what they were looking for.

"The guy's a knife man." Jack said as he leaned against the side of the Roadrunner.

"A what?" Asked Alan.

"Knife fighter. Carries around a really big knife. Probably just for show but I did hear that a biker tried to pick a fight with him down at _The Sur_ two nights ago."

Jack kept his voice even as he looked around to make sure that they were alone.

"Yeah so?" Edgar snorted. He couldn't care less about some biker...unless...

"Who was the biker?"

"Some skin head that should have stayed in prison." Jack shrugged.

"So what happened?" Alan pressed on. It couldn't have been one of the bikers they were looking for but there could still be a clue in the story that they could use.

"Nothing. But the next morning some old bag lady found the biker's body in a dumpster a few blocks from the bar. The guy was carved up like a turkey. The cops spent hours fishing out the pieces. I heard that he looked like some sort of puzzle that they had to piece together. Wasn't pretty." Jack shook his head and Edgar nodded.

"And the driver?"

"Police tried to bring him in for questioning but he vanished. Then my friend saw the car hightailing it out of town so my guess is that he was making a break for it before the law caught up with him. If he was the one who did it. No one knows for sure. That's all I know."

Alan kept a firm grip on the Green Lantern comic book but when Edgar motioned for him to hand it over he did so reluctantly. "You better take damn good care of it."

"Don't worry, I will." Jack said as he took the comic and eyed every inch of it with an expert eye. They were right. Mint condition. "It's been a pleasure boys now beat it."

The brothers did not stay around to argue. Jack waited until they had gone before he broke the seal and slipped out the comic book. It was a good thing he did because just as he opened the comic book the Frog brothers were on their bikes and pedalled like demons.

Awesome job high five!

"What the?"

Jack muttered as he stared at the first page. Instead of the Green Lantern there was a bunch of captions with snarling vampires and a warning. Destroy All Vampires!

"Those little mother..."

"How do you think the others are doing?" Alan asked as they zipped down a short-cut as they headed for the warehouse district on the other side of town in order to search for any potential vampire hide-outs in the area.

"They better have come up with something better or all this is for shit." Edgar replied. He could just see the look on Jack Roster's face when he realized that the comic was a fake. Well Jack wasn't the only one who could be crooked and for Edgar it was all in the line of duty.


	12. Wind of Change

Chapter Theme Song: "Wind of Change" by Scorpions

* * *

While the Frogs spent the remaining afternoon poking around run-down and abandoned warehouses for clues Ian and Tory were having no luck in make some sort of headway downtown.

Since morning they had been running all over town, calling in favours, asking people who knew people who should know people who knew about the mysterious band of bikers that everyone seemed to keep their distance from.

Everyone that is except another group of street teens who prowled the Boardwalk at night.

It was Tory who thought up the idea to talk to the Surf Nazis. Of course Ian had nixed the idea right away. The bikers they were trying to find were bad enough. There was no need to go making the situation worse by getting the Nazis involved. By all accounts those guys were just as bad as the bikers.

But like always Tory did not see it that way. To Tory it was a vital opportunity while to Ian it was just a disaster waiting to happen.

Once again Ian's intuition proved correct. The Nazis were less than helpful but the two did walk, more like run away, with something that just raised more questions instead of answers.

"What the hell does Peter Pan have anything to do with these guys?"

Tory fumed as she sucked hard on her straw and drained most of her Mountain Dew in one huge swallow.

Ian shook his head as he poked at the dwindling plate of fries that he had barely touched. The Frogs had been right about this being one giant wild goose chase. What a waste of a day.

"I don't know Tory. Maybe Greg didn't know what he was talking about."

Tory grabbed a handful of fries, half of which she ate, before she threw the rest at a bunch of obnoxious seven year old kids at the wooden picnic table beside theirs.

"That I highly doubt. Greg said something about the bikers being no better than lost boys without a clue. That has to mean something. It just does. The only lost boys that I know of are from _Peter Pan_. Yeah I watched Disney movies when I was a kid. Sue me."

Tory muttered as she glared at the kids who stuck their tongues out at her and rolled their eyes.

Annoying little snots.

"Tory I honestly don't think that's what he meant." Ian said as he pushed the plate of fries out of her reach before she could toss the entire thing at the kids.

"Well what did he mean then?" Tory challenged, right after she bared her teeth stuck at the twerps.

"How should I know? Like I can read minds. He was probably too stoned to understand what he was saying. And from what we did find out today, these guys we're looking for are seriously bad news. Something tells me they wouldn't want to have any connection with a story about some kid in green tights and a bunch of orphans who live in a tree."

Ian groaned and rested his head on his arms so that he could ignore the jeers from the brats and Tory's foul rebuttal that shut them up for the time being. He closed his eyes for a moment and frowned as he replayed the conversation they had had with Greg, the leader of the Surf Nazis, in his mind.

Most of the answers they had received were "fuck off", "go fuck yourselves", "don't stick your nose where it don't belong" and a number of other highly intelligent answers. The only response that they had gotten that was not some sort of threat was the Peter Pan bit and even that was vague.

"Well maybe they live in a tree." Tory leaned across the picnic table and snatched up the plate of fries. "It would explain a lot and make finding these assholes a lot easier. Vampires in a tree, now that's original. Could you imagine? A bunch of blood-sucking bats hanging from tree branches during the day?"

She was talking more to herself than to Ian as she chomped on a few ketchup drenched fries.

"No I can't cause they'd never do it." Ian answered from behind his folded arms.

"What?"

"They'd never live in a tree because they'd get roasted. Hello, sunlight remember? Didn't you listen to anything the Frogs said last night? If these guys are vampires they are going to need something dark, secluded, damp, and hard to get to."

Ian lifted his head and brushed his unruly hair out of his eyes as Tory looked at a half-chewed fry, considering something.

"Okay fine, no tree. Hmmm. If I were a lost boy vampire, where would I hide?"

Ian plunked his head back onto his arms as Tory repeated the question a few more times, gazing out at the rolling surf in the distance as the tide started to come in.

"In the movie they lived in a tree. A tree. Tree, tree, tree. In Santa Carla, they'd live in a...house? No, rent issues would be a problem. An old abandoned house? Seriously put a kink into anyone's date life, even if they'd eat anyone they wanted to bang. What about...a church? No wait, crosses. A synagogue! No one would ever think to look there...unless they were Jewish vampires. That wouldn't work. What if they were pretending to be Jehovah Witnesses? Perfect cover, no one would ever question them and they'd be able to go door to door and kill people. But I can't see these guys wearing suits. What do you think Ian?"

Tory grinned as she nudged his head.

"Are these guys secretly JW's in disguise and using their vamp powers to create an undead army of converts? Do you think Santa Carla will be under attack by Bible wielding blood-suckers in the near future? Huh? Do you?"

"Tory that's not funny." Ian growled.

"Well _sorry_ for trying to lighten the mood. It's not like you're coming up with anything better."

Tory grabbed her drink and moodily toyed with it.

"Yeah well I'm trying to think of something okay? These guys are bunch of dead guys and where would you find a bunch of dead guys? In the ground. So I'm thinking cemeteries. But the Frogs already checked those months ago and it's just too cliché and too obvious for anyone with half a brain to figure out. So our other option would be in a hole in ground, under a rock or...I don't know! Shit, for all I now they're probably hot boxing a cave right now before they go boogie-boarding when the sun goes down."

Ian pulled his hair in frustration. The lack of success so far was putting a strain on his nerves. The closer they got to sunset the less hopeful he was of ever seeing Betty again or solving the mystery of the punk bikers.

"OHMYGAWD! That's it!"

Tory choked on her straw as soda dribbled out of her nose.

"Ew Tory." Ian rolled his eyes as he tossed her a napkin. "Swallow first will you?"

"That's it though." Tory snatched up the napkin as Ian gave her a puzzled look. "A cave! They would be in a cave. It's in the ground, it's away from just about everything, and the caves around here are practically impossible to get to unless you were suicidal..."

"Or could fly."

Ian blinked as it clicked in his head. It was a long shot but it did make sense.

Everyone they had talk to that day had said that the guys always roamed the Boardwalk and the beach and they hardly if ever went uptown. Most of the people who had seen them night after night did say that they always raced along the pier at low tide. There were always tire marks along the cliffs and such. If these guys really were vampires they would consider the Boardwalk and surrounding area as their territory and they wouldn't want to leave it at night or during the day.

The caves were about a fifteen minute drive from the Boardwalk and the cliffs were sheer drops that spelled out instant death for any person who tried to scale them. Surfers stayed away from the cliffs because of the rip tides and deadly currents so they were practically untouched and unexplored which would make them the perfect vampire hideout.

"What time is it?" Tory quickly asked as she stood up.

"Uh, 4:00. We're not supposed to meet the Frogs until five." Ian glanced down at his digital watch.

"Okay I'll meet you at the comic store at five. Make sure you guys don't do anything without me."

Tory stepped over the wooden seat and hurried off before Ian realized what was going on.

"What? Wait Tory!" He stumbled to his feet and dashed after her. "What's going on? Tory get back here! Tory!"

"Don't worry...meet at the shop...stay put until I get there...I mean it...stay put!"

Tory shouted over her shoulder as she picked up her pace and ran. She vanished around a corner of a convenience store before Ian could catch up. When he rounded the store he slowed to a walk and looked this way and that for a glimpse of the snarling black jaguar on the back of Tory's jacket but she was already long gone.

"Looks like your girlfriend can run pretty fast."

A middle-aged man chuckled as he exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke while he sat on the curb with the day's newspaper.

"She's not my girlfriend." Ian muttered.

He looked left and right, not sure of what he should do next. Should he spend the rest of the time trying to track down Tory, who could be anywhere, or should he continue on with what they had been doing before and meet at the comic shop at five o'clock and hope that Tory showed up?

"Sure kid. Whatever you say." The man grinned as he flicked away the butt of his cigarette and shook out his paper.

Ian scowled at him from the corner of his eye but stopped when he saw a familiar face staring up at him.

"Is that today's paper?" Ian asked the man as he stared at the printed black and white photograph of a girl in a catholic high school uniform that was smiling up at him.

"Who's the girl?"

"Says here she's Sarah Thompson, niece of some high ranking bishop in San Francisco. Went missing about a month ago and they're still looking for her. It was all over the news when it happened. Guess they figured they won't find her alive anymore so they're calling off the search. Damn shame but we got enough of our own problems to worry about. Kids go missing around here all the time and they don't even make it into the papers. No one around here is going to care about some kid from San Francisco, no matter who she's related to."

The man pointed out as he glanced over the article before he moved on to another.

"Can I have that page?" Ian asked the man as he swallowed hard and did his best to keep his voice steady.

"Sure. She don't mean a thing to me." The man tore off the page and handed it over to Ian.

Ian took the article and read it through as fast as he could.

"My own brother went missing about seven years ago and we never found a trace of him. If the damn police would do their jobs it would never have happened. Now we have serial killers running around here like it was some sort of free for all and they're still not doing a god damn thing about it."

The man continued to rant out loud about the current state of safety in Santa Carla but Ian wasn't listening.

 _Sarah Thompson, aged 16 years, went missing on May 13th...investigators are still baffled by the disappearance...claim that she was abducted...police and investigators are calling off the search...Bishop Richard Thompson refuses to comment..._

"You okay kid? You don't look so good."

The man's comment brought Ian back to the real world.

"Uh yeah. Yeah. Thanks for the page." Ian mumbled and walked off before the man could ask him any more questions. As soon as he put enough distance between himself and the man on the sidewalk Ian broke into a sprint and ran like hell towards the Boardwalk and the Frogs comic shop.

Sarah Thompson was Betty. Betty was the girl from San Francisco who went missing over a month ago. Now she was abducted by people he and his friends suspected to be vampires and she had been hanging around a group of bikers who were nothing but trouble.

Hanging out with them for a month.

A month.

What if he and the others were a month too late?

"Oh shit Tory where are you?" Ian swore as he ran on with the article clutched tightly in his hand.


	13. You Know She's A Little Bit Dangerous

Chapter Theme Song: "You Know She's A Little Bit Dangerous" by Roxette

* * *

 **MISSING!** Susan Wilfred, age 18, missing since 1986

 **MISSING!** Javier Hernandez, age 23, missing since 1985

 **MISSING!** William G. Bailey, age 19, missing since 1984

 **MISSING!** Jerome Henry, age 32, missing since 1983

 **MISSING!** Vernon Beasley, age 41, missing since 1987

Ian stared at the wall covered in Missing Persons posters which was more of a testimony to the passage of time than anything else. There were some posters plastered onto the wall that dated back seven years and judging by what he saw he suspected that those people had never been found.

From an outsider's point of view they were just colourful sheets of paper with pictures of missing people on them. A morbid collage of the lost ones of the city. But from Ian's perspective the wall was one giant obituary for the victims of possible vampire attacks.

Daniel Orliander... **Dead**

Melissa Capadoccia... **Dead**

Trudy Parks... **Dead**

William Frog and Helen... **Dead**

Whoa, wait.

 _Frog_?

Ian frowned as he grabbed the faded half-covered sheet and tore it from the wall. The piece of paper was severed faded and yellowed by the sun. Yet Ian could just make out the two black and white pictures of the missing couple. There was something familiar about the woman's eyes that drew his attention.

 **Missing since 1982**

Ian closed his eyes for a moment as he quickly did the math in his head. It was 1987 and the couple had been missing since 1982 so that made it five years ago when they had vanished without a trace. So if Ian's calculations were correct then Edgar would have been around ten when it happened and Alan would have been nine.

Oh man.

Ian groaned softly as he studied the paper closely. Maybe they weren't the Frog brothers parents. Maybe they were close relations or they just shared the same last name or something.

"We've always had the shop. Our dad was a big comics fan." Alan's voice came from behind Ian.

"What?" Ian jumped, having been unaware that he had been watched by the younger Frog brother the entire time. Ian glanced at the picture of Helen Frog before he met Alan's eyes. He could see the similarity between the two. Alan and the woman in the picture shared the same dark hair and narrow angular facial features.

"I thought that..."

"That those two stoners were our parents?" Alan finished off Ian's question with a sneer, as if saying those words left a foul taste in his mouth.

"Well...yeah."

Ian swallowed hard as he watched Alan's dark eyes harden in an almost menacing way. Ian realized that he had accidentally struck a sensitive nerve in Alan and could not do anything about it.

"The system didn't want to separate us when they couldn't get a hold of any of our relatives so we got stuck with those two at the shop. They wanted us because of the shop and well, you don't really have a say when you're nine." Alan held out his hand and nodded his head. Ian didn't think twice about handing over the flyer and when he did, Alan quickly tore it to pieces. "So we run the shop while our foster parents spend all day doing nothing. It's better that way. We do things our way and nobody questions us."

"Do you think they'll ever come back?" Ian asked as he watched the torn pieces of paper scatter along the cracked pavement of the sidewalk.

"They're dead. There's no coming back from that."

It was more of a statement than an answer. Ian gave Alan a pitying look before he averted his eyes from Alan's hard stare.

"How do you know?" He couldn't help but ask. It was one of those questions he knew he didn't want to and shouldn't ask but he did it anyways because he could not help himself. Curiosity killed the cat and all that.

"They never found the bodies but they found the car. Well what was left of it. The reports said it was a car accident but there wasn't a second car and the doors had been torn right off like a lid off a sardine can. The vampires did it. It's their style." Alan watched Ian as he caught himself gawking like an idiot. Ian opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it.

What he had said was the honest truth and all Ian could do was accept it and move on to more important things.

"So that's why you guys are like that." Ian said as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket. It was a bad habit of his that he did every time he found himself to be in one of those awkward moments where he did not know what to say.

"Like what?" Alan stared him down as he waited for an answer.

"You know..." Ian shrugged his shoulders and motioned with his hands, "like that. The whole _fearless vampire killers_ thing."

"Yeah." Alan's hard expression softened slightly as he cracked a small grin at Ian's vampire reference. "C'mon. I left my brother and your friend alone together to come find you. We better get back before they kill each other."

"We're probably too late." Ian muttered as he rolled his eyes.

Alan nodded in solemn agreement.

When they finally made it back to the comic shop the two teenagers were snarling at one another from either side of a stand of newly arrived Superman comics.

"So you're saying that all you managed to get was a stupid Disney reference?" Edgar barked as Tory scowled at him. With her eyes narrowed and teeth gritted she resisted the urge to knock the entire stand of comic books right on top of him.

"Yeah. That was one thing we found out. We think we figured out where these guys are holed up." Tory sassed as she squeezed her right hand into a tight fist so that her nails dug into her palm. Now wasn't the time to lose it and do something regrettable. The clock was ticking and giving Edgar something to think about other than monsters would have to wait for later.

"You _think_?" Edgar asked without bothering to try to cover the sarcastic edge in his voice. "You had all day to search all over this place and you only _think_ you figured out where these guys stay during the day? What, was it too difficult for you to follow a lead? Would that have been asking too much? I should have known. Girls can't do anything right."

Tory's eyes widened at the remark and she caught herself before her jaw hit the ground.

"Oh no you did not."

Edgar crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, I just did."

Ian and Alan simultaneously jumped back as Tory went from shocked to psycho in about a second flat. Comic books went sent flying as the stand crashed to the ground. Edgar barely avoided getting knocked down under its hefty weight.

"That's it! I kicked your ass last night and I'm gonna kick it again!" Tory bellowed like bull when she saw red. Edgar realized his mistake and that he was about ten seconds away from getting one hell of a beat down from She Hulk. With that thought in mind he quickly scrabbled over the fallen comic stand and dove out of Tory's reach.

"Tory!" Ian yelled as Edgar bolted past him, ducking as he did so. Comic books flew after him as Tory pelted the Frog with whatever she could get her hands on.

"Not the comics!" Alan yelped as he valiantly tried to rescue a bunch of Superman issue #356 comics from Tory's hair-trigger wrath.

"Shut up Ian." She snapped as she pushed him out of the way and started to chase Edgar around the comic shop like a mad woman.

"Don't tell me to shut up." Ian snapped back as he looked around the store.

There were a few customers that had stopped their browsing to watch the commotion while Alan scooped up the fallen comics as quickly as he could having turned a deaf ear to Tory's threats and Edgar's rebuttals.

"Yeah why don't you listen to your boyfriend for once and maybe you could learn something." Edgar egged Tory on as they came to a stalemate between another comic stand. This one was bigger than the one Tory had just knocked over.

"Shut up Edgar." Ian growled as he bent over to grab a few comics that had slipped out of Alan's arms. That was when he remembered the newspaper article in his pocket. "Tory I found something out about Betty that..."

He began but Tory quickly cut him off.

"Good for you Ian. Get back here Frog!" Tory stamped her foot in annoyance and charged around the comic stand as Edgar just ran the other way and they were back to their stalemate, this time on opposite sides.

"Make me!" Edgar challenged and ducked as a Iron Man comic whizzed overhead. Instead of nailing Edgar the comic missed him and hit Alan in the face just as he straightened up with second armload of Superman comics.

"Will you two just cut it out already?" Alan growled as he tried to grab the Iron Man comic and in doing so accidentally dropped the comics he was already holding.

"Who's side are you on?" Edgar muttered as he shot his brother a dark look.

"Guys will you just chill for a second? I found out who Betty really is and it's kinda important." Ian reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded newspaper article. "Listen, her picture was in today's paper and it says that her real name is Sarah Thomp..."

"Hey! Put that down! That's an issue 32 and there's only fifteen of them in mint condition left in the world!"

Alan actually screamed when he caught sight of what Tory held in her hands.

Tory eyed the vintage Wonder Woman comic and inspiration struck. The tables turned so quickly it made Edgar's head spin.

"Oh yeah? _Make me_."

Her crafty grin reached her eyes as she raised the comic up and pretended to start tearing it in half.

"The hell I will!"

Edgar threw himself at the comic stand and tried to swipe the comic from Tory, but she just danced back and laughed. Alan dropped everything and ran to his brother's aid. The two Frogs frantically began to chase Tory up and down the shop in a mad attempt to save one of their most valuable comics. How Tory had managed to get her hands on that specific comic was beyond them but right then all they cared about was preventing a tragedy from occurring.

"Guys! Stop it! You're acting like a bunch of stupid kids!"

Ian had to shout to make himself heard over the all the racket that the three of them were making. The customers that had been watching things unfold left the shop as Tory jumped onto the front counter and held the comic book above the Frogs heads and well out of their reach.

"Give it back!" Alan jumped and almost snagged the comic but Tory yanked it higher a second faster.

"No!" She spat and backed away. " _Whoooooa_ shit!"

She stepped too far and fell right off the counter.

Ian just watched as the Frog brothers threw themselves onto his best friend before he turned around and walked straight out of the shop.

"Screw this."

He had just about had it with Tory and her out-of-control behaviour. No matter what he did or how hard he tried he could never fully understand his best friend. She was ballsy where he was passive and yet she was clueless when it came to solving issues without resorting to some sort of fist fight. That's what he loved about her though. Tory would never back down from any fight, no matter who or what she was up against. Tory didn't know how to back down. She fought with her heart but Ian constantly wished that she would use her head a little more. He was getting tired of trying to keep her on the straight and narrow.

Ian did not pay attention to where he was going as he stormed off into the bustling heart of the Boardwalk. He was nearly cut down by a motorcyclist as he jay-walked across the main thoroughfare that ran from one end of the Boardwalk to the other.

"Hey watch it!"

The bright glare of headlights gave him a split-second window to get out of the way.

"Asshole!" Ian barked as the biker shot past with a hearty roar. He was so close that Ian stumbled back as the guy clipped him on the shoulder.

"Smooth move kid." A flannel-clad street punk snickered as he stepped over Ian without so much as a second thought as Ian lay sprawled on his back, winded.

Instead of taking a second to contemplate how close he came to becoming road kill Ian couldn't help but think of what Tory would do in a situation like this. Well, the answer was rather simple. She'd take a stand and hack the guy's side-mirrors off. To Ian the side-mirror thing would be going a bit too far but he could take a stand.

"That's it." Ian picked himself up and dusted off his jacket. He was tired of being a doormat. It was time to show some teeth.

Little did he know how close he came to some serious teeth when he stepped out onto the road once more. His eyes were on the leather-clad back of the biker who had clipped him. As he started towards the biker another hearty roar of a bike engine snarled out behind him and Ian jumped a mile as a colourful blur shot past him. Only this time the driver expertly avoided Ian by a few inches.

"Oh for Christ's sakes will you people stop already!" Ian shouted as he flipped the colourful biker the bird. Only he realized two seconds later just who he had insulted. The biker shot him a god-awful look that made Ian shrink back into the crowd before he drove off with a squeal of rubber.

"Oh crap..."

Well problem one of the mystery bikers solved. Here was one of them right now.

Ian did not stick around to see where Marko drove off to as he ran pell-mell back into the comic shop. He pushed aside everyone who stood in his way, big and small.

"Guys! Holy crap guys! Edgar! Tory! Alan!" Ian shouted as he skidded past the front of the shop and practically dove in to find Tory and the Frogs locked in some weird three person head-lock, struggling back and forth in the middle of the store.

"Guys! **PEOPLE!** "

He roared out as loud as he could and everyone seemed to freeze at the sound of his voice. They turned together and looked up at him.

" _What_!"

Edgar, Alan and Tory shouted in unison as they held on to each other, each refusing to be the first to let go.

"Outside." Ian pointed over his shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

"What?" Asked Alan as he twisted himself away from Edgar and Tory who still had their hands around each other's throats.

"He's outside." Ian repeated himself.

"Who is?" This time it was Tory who asked.

She and Edgar glared one final time before they simultaneously released one another.

"One of the bikers." Ian rolled his eyes.

C'mon, it was kind of obvious wasn't it?

"Which one? Mullet Guy?" Edgar picked up his red bandana that had fallen off during the scuffle and quickly retied it around his head, knotting it twice for security. He kept one eye on Tory as he moved towards Ian and caught the scowl she sent him but thought better than to comment on it.

Ian shook his head as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure that they were alone in the shop. "No. It's the dude with the patched jacket."

"Which one's that one?" Alan asked as he went over to the fallen comic stand and motioned Ian to help him straighten it.

It took them five seconds to stand it up but the mess of comics that covered the floor was another story. Ian and Alan looked at them for a second before they both stepped away. Since Tory was the one who knocked them down she could be the one to put them back.

"The little one." Edgar responded before he walked to the front of the store and stuck his head out. He carefully scanned the crowd up and down their small stretch of the Boardwalk for a loud and colourful patched jacket.

"Well where is he?" Tory asked, her arms crossed over her chest while she watched the Frogs stand there as if unsure of what to do next.

"Well if you guys had cared to notice while you were acting like a bunch of morons you would have seen him drive by about three seconds ago." Ian muttered as he gave Tory an accusing look.

"Shit!" Alan swore before he ran to the back of the store and vanished into the back room before anyone could do anything to stop him.

"What's his problem?" Tory asked no one in particular.

"Okay. Here's what we'll do." Edgar took command over the situation. "You two stay here until we find out where he's gone to. If you see any of the others drive by, let us know."

Ian opened his mouth to say something but once again Tory bet him to it.

"Okay two questions. First, why do we have to stay behind and second how are we supposed to let you know? By carrier pigeon?" She arched an eyebrow and gave Edgar an expected look while Ian just sighed.

Here they go again...again.

"Well to answer your first question there is no point in all of us running around the Boardwalk in case the rest of the biker gang does decide to show up because then we'll probably miss them. And for your second question you can reach us with these." Edgar hurried behind the front counter and pulled out from underneath the cash register two green battered field walkie-talkies that looked like they could have seen some serious action in Vietnam.

"Oh whoopee. Where did you pick up those things from, the army surplus store? Do they even work?"

"Of course they work." Edgar growled as he picked one up and switched it on. Instead of the expected buzz of static the walkie-talkie remained silent. Scowling, Edgar slammed the thing on the counter a couple of times before it crackled to life with a sharp whine. "There. Okay, once we track the guy down we'll let you know and you two can meet us at a designated spot. But until then, you stay put."

"How about you two stay here and run your little store while Ian and I will track this guy down. We know the Boardwalk better than you do." Tory suggested with a sarcastic smile as she walked over to the cash counter and picked up one of the walkie-talkies in order to weigh it with both hands. The thing was as heavy as a damn brick.

"That I highly doubt and you know just about jack shit about vampires." Edgar snickered as he reached over and yanked the walkie-talkie out of her hands and handed it over to Ian. "If you tried to follow him he'd hear you coming a mile off."

"In that crowd? Who do you think you're kidding Edgar?" Tory drummed her fingers on the counter top as Ian took the walkie-talkie.

"No one. You have a big mouth and a fog horn couldn't be louder than you." Edgar said as he picked up the other walkie-talkie and began to fiddle with the dials. "Check, check, alpha bravo fox trot Charlie, check."

"I outta make you look like something out of _Platoon_ , scars and all." Tory growled softly as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Edgar.

"I'll have to take a rain check on that. Alan!" Edgar shouted over his shoulder as he found the right channel and the two walkie-talkies hummed in unison.

"Okay I got the stuff. Everything's in here."

Alan panted as he tore out of the back room loaded down with two backpacks filled with vampire killing equipment complete with drinking canister filled with holy water and a few combat knives that were sheathed and ready to go.

"You sure?" Edgar asked as he put down his walkie-talkie and took one of the packs from his brother. "Knife."

He waved a hand and Alan handed over his prized Green Barrett combat knife that he quickly hooked to his belt for easy access.

"Sure I'm sure. There's no time to do a weapons check. We gotta go now!" Alan took up the walkie-talkie and stuffed it into a side pocket of his pack.

Ian and Tory moved out of the way as Edgar tossed his pack over a shoulder and jumped over the front counter with ease. Both brothers ran out of the store without another word leaving the two of them alone to fend for themselves.

"Well that's just great."

"Shut up Tory."


	14. Lola

Chapter Theme Song: "Lola" by The Kinks

* * *

"So where the hell did you go today?" Ian placed the walkie-talkie on the counter. "I couldn't find you anywhere? Why did you ditch me?"

"Oh Ian, not now." Tory groaned but Ian turned to face her.

"Yes now! I was worried sick about you. Why the hell did you do that?" Ian demanded as he stood in her way, refusing to budge. Tory didn't know what to think.

"Why do you care?" She muttered and slipped into her tough girl persona as she started to feel cornered. Ian was her best friend but never before had he gone head to head with her over something so pointless. That just wasn't Ian's way. And Ian should know better than to try to demand anything from her. When push came to shove Tory always kicked for the groin, no matter who it was. That was just how things were.

"Why...why do I care? Seriously?!"

Whatever nerve Ian had worked up stuck with him. Soon the two friends were in the middle of a heated argument with Ian on the offensive for probably the first time in his life. As Ian tried to shake the truth from Tory, Edgar and Alan were looking both high and low as the trail went cold turkey.

"Which way did he go man?" Alan asked.

Edgar turned on the spot, peering at the crowd as he tried to spot Ian's mark.

"I don't know. Look for a patched jacket or a sports bike."

"There are bikes everywhere." Alan pointed out as he jumped up in order to look over the heads of a few tall people that would not move out of his way.

"No shit Sherlock." Edgar growled as he shot a filthy look over his shoulder at a bunch of twenty-something guys that rudely shouldered him out of their way. He would have said something but Alan leapt high into the air once more and crowed.

"Wait! I think I see him!"

"Where?"

Alan pointed off to the left. "Over there!"

"Are you sure that's him?" Edgar asked. He had to trust Alan's judgment because he couldn't see a damn thing.

"Of course, c'mon!"

Alan took off like a shot and Edgar had to hurry after him. With Alan in the lead like a birddog on a scent, the two Frogs weaved their way through people, concession stands and the occasional snoozing homeless bum. Marko pulled up in front of the VideoMax video rental store and parked his bike next to a red convertible. Marko dismounted and entered the store with his head lowered.

"It is him...and he's going into VideoMax. What's our plan of action?" Alan skidded to a stop and waited for Edgar to catch up as he tracked Marko into the store.

"Christ, when did you join the track team?" Edgar heaved as he bent over in order to massage a stitch in his side. "Our plan? Uhh...right. Keep it cool. We go in and see what's going on."

"Good plan." Alan nodded and Edgar had to grab his pack in order to hold him back so that Alan didn't bolt straight into the store and blow their cover. His brother was an awesome monster basher but Alan still had to work a few things out in the eagerness department.

Once Edgar got his breath back the Frogs strolled into the store, trying their best to look like the average teenage customer. Alan's eyes darted left and right, distracted by all of the colours and television screens, before he zeroed in on Marko who was talking to the store owner in the back corner of the store. He started to make a bee-line over to the two when a sharp growl made him jerk backward.

"Don't worry, he won't hurt you."

Edgar placed himself between his brother and the large white Shepard that was lying behind the cash counter. Edgar studied the dog for a moment before he jerked his head and drift towards the back of the store. The dog's golden eyes tracked their every move as the Frogs pretended to browse the videotapes. They stopped behind a rack of tapes in the comedy section when they came within hearing distance.

"How many times have I told you not to come here?"

Max glared down at a subdued Marko.

"Listen something happened last night that..."

Before he could say more, Max cut him off.

"I don't want to hear about last night."

"But..." Marko stared up at him and quickly looked away when he realized that that was not a smart move.

"But what? Hmmm?" Max's voice carried the faintest edge to it and even though no one else in the store seemed to notice the biker shuddered as if someone had just walked over his grave.

Edgar and Alan look at each other, both of them thinking the same thing.

 _What was that about?_

Marko fidgeted under Max's scrutinizing stare and even though he knew that he should say something he stayed quiet.

"Good." Max said and suddenly turned around. His eyes landed on the lingering duo behind him. "Can I help you boys with anything?"

"Uh..." Edgar blinked. Talk about bad timing for a major brain fart.

"We were uh... just looking." Alan said as he carefully stepped on Edgar's foot. That seemed to get him back on track.

"And we found what we wanted. Right here." Edgar smiled awkwardly as he picked up a random video tape and held it up. "See?"

"Very well then. Come with me." Max beckoned the two to follow with him a slight nod of his head as he walked over to the cash register. Marko ground his teeth and followed, not about to get pushed aside.

Edgar and Alan trailed after Marko but tried to keep their distance from the guy without making it seem obvious. They tried a little too hard because Alan ended up walking straight into a video shelf and knocked over a few tapes. He scrambled to pick them up and put them back while Edgar went to the cash counter and placed the video tape down in front of him. With Marko standing to his left and Max right in front of him, Edgar suddenly felt less self-assured then he did when he walked into the store. There was something about the set-up that put him on edge.

And where the hell was his wingman?

"Gone with the Wind?" Max asked as he looked right at Edgar.

"Huh?" Edgar asked confused as he tried to shake off a sudden case of the heebie-jeebies.

Max arched an eyebrow as he held up the tape so that Edgar could see the title _Gone With The Wind_ written on the case. Edgar just stared at it.

"Yeah...it's for our mom."

" _Nice one_." Edgar thought as he nodded his head to confirm Alan's reply.

Hey, what the hell was he supposed to say to that? That it was his favourite film? He didn't even know the first thing about the damn movie.

"I see." Max frowned slightly before he turned and worked the cash register. Edgar nudged Alan with his elbow as he took out his wallet. That was the cue. Alan carefully pulled a small mirror that fitted neatly in the palm of his hand from his pant pocket without attracting any attention.

Marko stood close to Edgar as he waited for the Frogs to leave in order to Max once more without any interruptions.

"That'll be $2.45."

Even though he had a five dollar bill in his wallet, Edgar began to scrounge up a bunch of change from his various pockets and as he started to count it out he purposely dropped his wallet and coins went everywhere.

"Oh jeez. Sorry. I'll get it. How much was it again?"

He had to buy Alan some time.

While Edgar was busy keeping Max distracted Alan held the mirror next to his leg and angled it in Marko's direction. It took a few tries to get the angle just right but he finally got it and looked to see if Marko had a reflection. The mirror was empty. Realizing what he was seeing he quickly stuffed the mirror back into his pocket and tugged on the corner of Edgar's shirt.

All clear.

"Here's your videotape and your receipt. It is due back on Saturday by eleven." Max handed over the receipt that Edgar took and stuffed into his vest pocket.

"Yeah thanks." Edgar nodded his head and shouldered his brother forward as they quickly moved away from the counter. Max stood there and waited until Edgar zipped back a second later and picked up the tape that he had forgotten to take with him.

"Right." He smiled weakly before he turned and flew right out of the store with Alan shadowing him. "Man that was bad. We nearly gave ourselves away."

"Yeah well he's one of them." Alan hissed with excitement.

Edgar stopped and grabbed his brother's arm, spinning him around to face him. "You sure?"

"Positive. He didn't have a reflection." Alan grinned as he reached into his pocket and held up the small compact mirror.

"Great. Our first blood sucker." He smiled as he high-fived his brother while both of them tried to down-play their excitement. "Get a hold of Ian and tell him to get his butt here pronto."

"Right." Alan reached for the walkie-talkie while Edgar stuffed the _Gone with the Wind_ tape into his pack. "Ian do you copy? Do you copy Ian, over."

Alan released his hold on the talk button and waited 30 seconds for a response before he tried again.

"Ian? Tory? Do you copy over?"

Alan counted down the seconds in his head as Edgar scanned the crowd.

"They're not answering."

"Yeah well never mind that." Edgar said as he squinted at something that wove its way through the crowd.

"What?" Alan lowered the walkie-talkie.

"Can't you hear them?" Edgar asked before he pointed at what he was looking at. Alan followed his brother's direction and saw what he meant. Tory was stomping through people with Ian hot on her heels. His voiced was raised loud enough for the Frogs to make out what was being said from where they stood.

"You know what Tory, I'm sick of being left in the dark about everything. How was I supposed to know you didn't end up getting yourself killed or something?" Ian shouted as Tory shoved two girls out of her way. Ian did not stop to apologize to them for his friend's behaviour like he would normally have done. Instead he reached out and grabbed Tory by her arm in order to slow her down so that he would not have to talk to the back of her head.

"What the hell! Who do you think you are, my mother? I already told you Ian. I had to take care of some things this afternoon." Tory whirled around and seethed while Ian just stood there, jaw jutted forward in determination. When he refused to back down Tory threw her hands up in defeat and stomped off once again.

"Yeah, well, you could have told me that before you ran off without so much as a goodbye." Ian yelled after her.

"Oh give it a rest Ian!" Tory snapped over her shoulder. She refused to turn around and look at him.

"No I won't give it a rest because you're always pulling this shit and one day I won't be there to save your butt when you get yourself into trouble." Ian stayed where he was. He had shouted the words loud enough that the people around them had stopped what they were doing. Tory did not have a choice when everyone's eyes looked in her direction.

"Hey I can handle myself just fine and I don't need anyone to help me alright?" Tory turned and growled out the words through clenched teeth. She tried to keep her voice as low as possible so that she would not draw any more attention to herself.

"Oh yeah? What about that time when you got into that mess with Brooke's gang? Or the time when the cops caught you in that car lot? Who was the one who bailed you out before they..."

Before everyone could find out what it was that Ian had bailed Tory out for, Edgar and Alan appeared on either side of Tory in an attempt to diffused the situation.

"I hate to interrupt you two love birds but will you please shut the hell up?" Edgar said with a glare as he tried to get his point across with as few words as possible.

"Oh my god Edgar will you shut it? Can't you think of anything else to throw at me?" Tory snapped back.

"Guys we got ourselves our first genuine blood sucker. This guy is the real deal." Alan made sure that no one else besides Ian and Tory could hear him.

"For real? You sure? Did you throw holy water on him and watch him smoke?" Tory turned her back on Edgar and faced Alan.

"Well, no. But he didn't have a reflection. No reflection means he's not part of the living." Alan emphasized his words by producing the small mirror once more and showed it to Tory.

"And...that's it? No reflection?" Tory asked with both eyebrows raised skeptically.

"That's prime proof that this guy is a vampire! What more could you want?" Alan asked as Edgar plucked the mirror out of his hand and quickly pocketed it before anyone else could see.

"I don't know. Lemme see. How about some fangs?" Tory's words came out harsher than she had meant them to. The pained look on Alan's face was proof enough that she had hit a sensitive spot.

"You know Tory you're really starting to piss me off Tory." Edgar growled as he came to his brother's defence.

"Finally. I've been waiting all night to hear you say that." Tory said sarcastically before Ian joined the conversation.

"Tory, just shut up already." Ian said before he turned to the Frogs. "So the biker is a vampire. You guys are sure about this?"

"Yeah. He's one of the undead." Alan muttered as he scowled darkly at Tory.

"Well if he's one then it's safe to assume that the others are vampires too right?" Ian asked them as he quickly checked the time on his digital wristwatch.

"That's my guess. So now we're up against a bunch of biker vampires that are bad news on a good day. Ian I don't know where you get your friends but they all seem to be nothing but trouble." Edgar adjusted the straps of his back pack and gave Ian a knowing look.

"Yeah well there's nothing I can do about it." Ian shrugged as he secreted a glance at Tory. "So where is this guy now? Is he still here?"

Edgar nodded.

"He should still be in the video store. His bike's parked beside the convertible."

"Oh yeah? You sure about that?" Tory spoke up and tilted her head towards the video store before Edgar could jump down her throat. "Doesn't look like it to me."

Edgar and Alan looked over their shoulders just as Marko kick-started his bike to life and drove off in the direction that he had come from.

"Oh crap! He's getting away!" Alan swore. Before anyone could stop him he took off like a shot after Marko.

"Alan wait! Damn it! More running." Edgar grabbed Tory by one arm and Ian by the other and dragged them with him as he hurried to keep Alan in sight. It was a high-paced leg race of fox and chicken and despite the pack full of anti-vampire items that he was carrying Alan managed to keep pace with Marko as the vampire was forced to carefully maneuvered his way through the moving crowd.

"Guys! Guys! Over here!" Alan raised both arms and waved frantically as he stopped beside a hot dog stand and motioned Edgar and the others to join him.

"Put your arms down! Do you want every vampire in Santa Carla to know that we're onto them?" Edgar hissed as he slowed to a stop and rested his elbows against the cart as he sucked in air like it was going out of style.

"Oh...right." Alan quickly dropped his arms.

"So where is he?" Tory asked, panting as well but nowhere near as much as Edgar. "Looks like someone needs to start working out."

"Bite me." Edgar grumbled before he straightened up and adjusted his bandana so that his hair was out of his eyes. "Alan?"

"Over there."

The others closed in around him behind the hot dog stand as they stared across the street from under the striped canopy. Marko had come to a jerking halt in the middle of the road for some reason and he was staring intensely at the large glass window of an electronics shop. From where they stood the teens could not make out what had made Marko turn a ghastly shade of grey.

 **Special News Bulletin**

" _This is Carol Harper reporting to you with a special report. This just in. There has been a breakthrough in the string of homicide cases that have been plaguing Santa Carla over the last few weeks. Forensic investigators have uncovered sufficient evidence that links one man to the recent killings of female sex workers in the red light district. Today's double homicide at the_ Wayside Motel _is connected to the other recent murders done by a singular individual who people are now calling the Red Letter Killer. Police have received an anonymous tip to the true identity of the killer and a city-wide manhunt is now underway._

 _Police Chief Henry Morton is scheduled to hold a public conference in regards to this new turn of events. The suspect's name has not been released yet but a profile sketch has been provided. The suspect in question is Caucasian male, aged 18-25, around 6 foot 1, average build, blonde hair, and weighs between 140-160 pounds. Anyone with any information is asked to call police._

"What's he staring at?" Ian whispered as they all squinted and tried to make out what was on the television screen. Alan just shrugged and tried to get a closer look but Edgar held him back.

"Wait and see what he does."

Unaware that he was being watched Marko could not take his eyes off what he was seeing. A fairly accurate sketch of Paul was staring at him from the television screen as the news anchor continued to talk about the most recent homicide. Marko felt as though the pit of his stomach no longer existed. He couldn't believe it. It was impossible but still happening.

Paul was being accused of killing over seven people on public television. On a news network that was being broadcasted along the Californian coast and who knew where else. Humans were now out to get him. Paul had been exposed.

Max was going to murder them all.

"Oh _shit_." Marko fought the urge to throw up. This was bad. This was _beyond_ bad. This was a nightmare of catastrophic proportion.

"Oh shit." Marko glanced around out of habit as he viciously revved his bike and took off in a screech of rubber and smoke. He had to tell the others. He had to tell them now. David would figure out how to fix this. Marko had no idea if it even could be fixed.

Max always warned them what would happen if any one of them were ever to be exposed to the public. They had always been extra careful about how and where they disposed the bodies of their victims so that something like this would never happen. But now it was happening.

What the hell were they going to do?

"I'll bet you a case of silver bullets that he's headed towards the caves." Tory said as they watched Marko race off in what could only be called a mad panic.

"What makes you say that?" Alan asked Tory despite his misgivings about her.

"It's a long story but we figured that those guys must be hiding in one of the caves off of Hudson's Bluff. The only thing is that if they're there, how are we supposed to get there?" Ian spoke up as he watched the Frog brothers to see what they would do. They were the monster hunters so tracking monsters should be in their field of expertise.

"Simple. We ride." Edgar said as he eyed a few BMX bikes that were propped up against one another along the edge of the Boardwalk walkway.

"We're stealing kid's bikes?" Tory couldn't believe it. She had thought that they'd commandeer dirt bikes or something to that effect...not trick bicycles.

"You got a better idea? Not all of us have a driver's license yet." Edgar grumbled as he and Alan grabbed a bike each and hopped on. "If he's headed for the bluff like you say he is then he'll be easy to track. No one goes there at this time of night. We'll be able to follow his tracks straight to whatever cave they're using as their lair."

Tory rolled her eyes as she took up a bike. She was not looking forward to the amount of peddling she was going to have to do but seeing that all her favours in the transportation department had been used up she really did not have much of a choice.

"You sound as if you've done this before." Ian said as he grabbed the last bike. He felt guilty about taking it but this was an emergency...sort of.

"Only in theory." Alan said as he reached into his backpack and pulled out two flashlights and a roll of duck tape. Both he and Edgar quickly taped the flashlights to the handlebars of their bikes, creating makeshift headlights that would allow them to see where they were going before they took off in Marko's direction.

"Something tells me I'm not going to like this." Tory grumbled to herself.

Ian sped off after the Frogs without a word. He kept his eyes straight ahead as Tory watched him go. Physical labor and now the silent treatment, the night was just getting better and better.

"How do I get myself into these things?"


	15. Man Who Sold The World

Chapter Theme Song: "The Man Who Sold The World" by David Bowie

* * *

The grandfather clock quietly ticked away the minutes as Lincoln gazed down at the handcrafted ivory and ebony chess board before him with a slight frown on his face. He knew that he would have to sacrifice his bishop in order to move forward with his game plan, but something told him that there was a hidden threat on the board. He just could not see it and that made him nervous.

"Still thinking?" Lucard asked as he watched Lincoln with a quiet calm about him. The massive burgundy leather wingback chair that he sat in did nothing to dwarf his presence in the private study.

"Give me a minute." Lincoln muttered as he shifted in his seat and leaned forward.

His mind was working in overdrive as he quickly envisioned a number of different moves and their possible consequences. The black and white squares of the board seemed to glow faintly as he mapped out the possible route for his remaining knight. If he went after Lucard's queen, he risked exposing his king. But if he did not the queen would take out three of his men in a single move.

That queen was proving to be one seriously nasty bitch.

Lincoln nodded to himself before he reached over and moved the knight to claim Lucard's rook. The queen was almost in his reach and Lincoln silently hoped that Lucard would be tempted by his exposed pieces. If he was and the queen claimed them, the knight would pounce and from there Lincoln would have no problem winning the game.

"Ah." Lucard murmured as he watched Lincoln place the taken rook in his pile of chess pieces. Both vampires were staring hard at the chess board, their faces unreadable, while the only sound that could be heard was the steady metronomic beat of the ornate weighted pendulum.

"I must say Lincoln you have certainly improved since we last played." Lucard spoke as he eyed his men with the keen eye of an aged master.

"I got nothin' to do all day so I figure I might as well get a few rounds in while you're snorin' away. Looks like it paid off wouldn't you say?" Lincoln had his eyes locked onto Lucard's right hand in anticipation.

Would he take the bait?

"First of all Lincoln I do not snore."

The master vampire arched a heavy eyebrow and glanced at his fledgling bodyguard. Lincoln grinned despite himself and Lucard had to resist the urge to shake his head.

"Secondly, it has paid off...but you still have much to learn."

Lucard lifted his hand and slowly picked up his white queen. He caught the glint in Lincoln's gaze but did not react to it as he moved the piece away from the tempting threesome that was ripe for the picking.

"Check."

"What?" Lincoln sat straight up and scanned the board.

Check? What check!

"Even if there is an easy advantage to be gained, no matter how tempting, you must always question as to why. Nothing ever happens by chance...", Lucard began as he massaged the bridge of his nose.

"Because everythin' happens for a reason. I hear you." Lincoln rans his fingers through his hair. How had he overlooked that move? It was right there in front of him and he had not even noticed. Now the white queen was in the perfect position to claim his king and none of his pieces were within range to take her out.

Goddammit!

"Well ain't this just swell." Lincoln moved his knight forward for the hell of it. He had lost the game anyway.

"Checkmate." The white queen knocked the black king off its square. "The round goes to me."

Lincoln sighed moodily and sat back as he glared down at the white queen that taunted him with her victory.

"I didn' even see it." He growled to himself.

The master watched him for a moment. It was rare that Lincoln ever lost at anything he did but Lucard knew that he had to put him in his place every now and then in order to keep that ego of his in check. A pompous vampire was a dead vampire. Lincoln was far from being a bloated prig of an egomaniac but he did seem too sure of himself at times and that was when he was liable to make a mistake without being aware of it.

The older vampire knew how much Lincoln hated to loose and he also knew that he had much to teach the rebel vampire, even after all these years.

"Even the best of us do not always see things until it is too late." Lucard consoled as he began to rearrange the pieces back to their rightful places on the board. The chess set had been a gift from a British nobleman in the 1600's and to leave it all helter-skelter would have been an egregious sin on his part.

"You can now see things three steps ahead and compared to what you used to be like, I would say that it is something to be rather proud of."

Lincoln ran a hand through his messy hair in order to get it out of his face.

"But?"

There was always a "but" in these conversations.

"But," Lucard chuckled as he picked up the white queen and held it aloft, "you are going to have to learn to see things ten steps ahead if you ever hope to beat me at this game."

Lincoln snorted and that snort quickly turned into deep-throated laughter. The two vampires shared the moment as Lincoln reached over and gently took the proffered piece.

"How come you always seem to know how things turn out?" He asked his Boss as he fingered the chess piece.

"I do not." Lucard said simply. "However when you get to be my age you will develop the ability to spot patterns miles away in anything you associate yourself with. Experience and intelligence is everything when it comes to achieving the ends to your means Lincoln, never forget that."

The old vampire nodded to himself as he placed the white king back onto its square.

"I would not be here today if I were not able to foresee and manipulate my rivals. As it stands surviving in this world is rather like a game of chess, only with more pieces to move about the board. In the end there will always be one victor. If you want that victor to be you, you must always go into everything already knowing how it will come to an end."

"Shoo it's too early for me to handle that much philosophical yammerin'." Lincoln grinned lazily and placed the queen beside the king. "But I gotta say, I think I'm startin' to get it. Those boys never even saw me comin'."

"Oh really?"

"Really. I think David was onto me, but I expected that. You can hardly touch that guy even if you're standin' right in front of him. But the others," Lincoln rolled his head from side to side, "dumb as frickin' mud. Especially the pot head. Looks like Max don't give a right damn about what happens to them cause if he did, they'd be better trained. I think he's leavin' it for David to do all of the dirty work. Figures."

"Do not underestimate Von Ruben Lincoln. He is more than a match for most vampires, even if he treats his own like livestock."

The master vampire's tone was firm. Oh yes, he knew how Maxim Ilion von Ruben worked. All too well. The man may have changed his fashion sense over the last century but personality wise he was still the same slick card shark he had always been.

"So what ever happened between you and Max? What was all that "water under the bridge" crap he was talkin' about last night?" Lincoln asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He knew that Lucard did not like to discuss past dealings but he could not get the previous nights conversation out of his head. It had festered in his brain all day like an annoying splinter. One that he really needed to pluck.

"I was waiting for you to bring that up." Lucard took out an delicately engraved gold pocket watch and checked the time. "I will not get into it with you right now but I will tell you this. Von Ruben and I were once like yourself and David. We did not loath each other at first however. Von Ruben was new to the blood, an aristocrat with an unusually sharp sense for personal gain and a great lover of the cards."

Upon hearing this Lincoln interrupted which was highly unusual considering he knew better then to ever interrupt the master vampire.

"You mean he was a gambler? Him? Somehow he don't strike me as the type."

"He would not. Von Ruben knows how to transform himself and pass for whomever he wishes from any social class or political standing. He is a chameleon if you will. He was and still is an artist of deception." Lucard explained as Lincoln sat back and listened closely.

"However by that time I was rising in the ranks of the undead aristocracy and had some real power to my standing in the vampire circles, even though I was less than half the age of some of the masters then. Dare I say it, I was a bit full of myself in the old days. It is true what they say about how power can get to your head."

Lucard paused as he reflected on his words while Lincoln stayed quiet. If the master vampire was going to tell him anything it would be on his own provocation. The only thing Lincoln could do was wait and hope that he would finally get some first-hand dirt on old Max.

"It was in the winter of 1767 when our paths crossed. In Paris if I my memory serves me. Von Ruben wanted to gain power through the social circles while I wanted to pass on my growing knowledge on to another. We were inseparable then. However things came to a rather fast end in the middle of the nineteenth century which was when we finally parted company. Von Ruben left Europe altogether while I went on to head the Covens in Germany as Drachenmeister. After the Second World War I passed on the mantle of leadership and came to America seeking to establish a new territory and that was when we crossed paths once more. This time however it was different. Von Ruben considered the new world to be his own personal estate and I was not welcome here. I removed myself to Argentina before he could convince the American Federal Agency that I was actually an agent for the Russian communist regime as well as a high ranking member of the Third Reich. With that kind of profile in the hands of the government he would have assured that my presence in these United States would never have been permitted. A rather clever move to be played on his part and one that I will admit to admire him for."

The faint beginnings of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he reminisced.

"That all changed once the Council of the Elders arrived and things went badly for Von Ruben. Banished from his territory on the east coast which was a prime holding that they then claimed as the new Seat of Ruling, he was more than bitter toward me and has been ever since. He seems to be of the mindset that I had a heavy hand in what transpired."

Lincoln remembered to blink as he held his tongue.

"I was granted the two coastal regions to govern and he wants to take back what he considers to be rightfully his. He blames me for his loss. Personally I believe that since the Elders refused to let him join our Council he seeks to prove them wrong. Von Ruben is a man of power who craves it as we crave the kill. He will not stop until he has it. I do not think he will ever be satisfied."

Lucard stroked his chin as he paused, lost in thought, while Lincoln pondered over all he had just heard. "So that's why he's always tryin' to get a deal from you. He's been tryin' to build back what he used to have."

"Exactly. Under normal circumstances I would refuse but as you know I am not getting any younger and my time is spread so thin these days that I cannot watch over all of my holdings. Such is the consequence of age." Lucard sighed softly and folded his hands on one knee.

"So was it worth it?" Lincoln asked as he tilted his head, giving the master vampire a questioning look.

"Was what worth it?" Lucard asked curiously.

"Us. Tradin' with Max for us. I still can't see why you do it." Lincoln shrugged his shoulders in an almost sheepish manner as Lucard's expression softened to a degree. The master vampire rose from his seat and clapped a large hand on Lincoln's shoulder as he stood before him.

"Yes it was Lincoln. Despite all the grief you have given me over the years and someday I imagine that you will understand why." Lucard replied, his deep voice reassuring and firm. "But enough talk for now. There is work to be done seeing that we no longer lead a bachelor life."

"Ugh, c'mon," Lincoln groaned as he tilted his head back and glanced up at Lucard, "do I have to?"

Lucard raised an eyebrow. It was enough of an answer to make Lincoln haul himself out of the armchair.

"Alright, alright."

Lincoln stood up and arched his back like a cat until he felt his spine pop. "So where do ya want me to take her? Around here or further out?"

"For safety's sake I would prefer it if you were to remain close to the safe house. Even though Von Ruben has no choice but to tolerate my presence for the time being there is no such thing as being too careful. Especially after what you have been up to." Lucard said as he gave Lincoln a stern look before he turned and headed for the main foyer.

"Fine. When are you gonna be back?" Lincoln asked as he trailed after Lucard, not so much as a dog following its master but more like a pupil following his mentor.

"A few hours before sunrise. I expect you two to be back well before then." Lucard said as he went over to the hallway closet and took out his double-breasted overcoat as Lincoln stood a little ways off awaiting further instruction.

"I don't mean to talk outta line or anythin' but shouldn't you be doin' this?" Lincoln asked as he glanced up the winding banister to the second-floor landing.

"Yes I should and I would were it not for the fact that I must now officially finalize the agreement. I must inform the tribes in Monterey and Santa Barbara about what is going on and I do not think that they will take to the idea of having to answer to Von Ruben as well as I would like. You know how Philippe and Santana can be."

"You sure you don't want me goin' with you? What if they try somethin'? I'd feel better havin' your back when you go off and do stuff like this." Lincoln asked as he went over to the writing desk and handed Lucard his keys while the master vampire donned the coat and smoothed out the neatly pressed lapels.

"I will be perfectly capable of handling them on my own Lincoln. Right now it is Sarah who you should be concerned about." Lucard took the keys and pocketed them as Lincoln moved around him in order to hold open the front door. "Try to discover what sort of damage Von Ruben and his boys have done and how deep those wounds run. Remember, none of your wild acts Lincoln. I will know."

Lucard faced Lincoln for a moment as Lincoln nodded in submission and looked away. There was a glint of warning in Lucard's eyes, one that made Lincoln cringe inwardly when he saw it. It was a clear warning for him to keep himself in line. Because if he did not he would have a hell of a lot to answer for. Lucard was not about to take any chances with Sarah.

Lincoln knew damn well that if something went amiss he would be the one to get it. Beating the insolence out of Lincoln had taken years to accomplish and Lucard had succeeded where other vampires would have failed which proved that Lucard was not above unleashing hell whenever the need arouse. Lincoln knew this from a vast wealth of personal experience.

"See you in a few then Boss." Lincoln said as Lucard walked out of the house without another word. The master vampire may have taken on the role as the father figure in their little "family" but Lincoln knew that the head vampire did not take mishaps and mistakes lightly.

"Right then. _Kid!_ Get down here 'cause we're leavin'!" Lincoln barked as he locked the front door and made his way up the spiralled staircase as he headed straight for Sarah's room.


	16. White Wedding

Lincoln gives Sarah a choice. Either get busy being undead or die already. Life's not fair, God's an astronaut, Oz is over the rainbow, and there ain't no such thing as going back. Will he succeed where David failed? Or will Sarah decide to take the midnight train going nowhere?

Welcome to the Dervish School of Vampire Ethics 101. Will Sarah be able to pass the test? Only one way to find out.

Chapter Theme Song: "White Wedding" by Billy Idol

* * *

Getting Sarah out of her room was more of a Sisyphean task then it was to get her into his car. Lincoln had to carefully pry a very angry snapping turtle out of its protective shell. Sarah kicked up one heck of fuss when Lincoln first attempted to herd her out into the hallway but that was to be expected. After what he had done to her the night before he was prepared to be kicked, bit, and clawed at. He allowed a few of her strikes to hit their mark. He deserved it. In the end however Lincoln had no other choice but to grab her by the legs and sling her over his shoulder so that he could carry her out of the house.

Boy did that go over well.

His ears were ringing by the time he shoved her into the Chevelle and locked the door. Baby was more than a match for a disgruntled teenage vampire and Lincoln just let Sarah ride out her vexation toward him from behind reinforced steel and glass while he picked at his nails with his small skinning knife. If Lucard could have heard some of the stuff that came out of her mouth he would have sure been surprised.

"You done?"

Nope.

Eventually Sarah ran out of steam and advice as to what he could do with various parts of his physical anatomy. There was only so much anger that someone so young and inexperienced could hang on to before something gave out. Exhaustion and hunger won out in the end. Sarah settled down and the two drove for about forty minutes in complete silence. Sarah brooded in the passenger seat while Lincoln gave up any hope on trying to start a conversation.

Lincoln kept one eye on the road and the other on Sarah when he finally cut his speed and pulled off the main stretch of highway. They drove down an old dirt side road that led to a dead end, smack dab in the middle of absolute nowhere. There were no cars, buildings, or headlights around when Lincoln eased the muscle car to a stop and let the engine purr for a few moments. They were not too far from the interstate but they were far out enough that they would not be seen if a car happen to drive past.

"Where are we?"

Those were the first words Sarah spoke to Lincoln since her cursing streak back at the house.

"Where does it look like? The middle of nowhere." Lincoln snorted as he killed the lights and took his keys out of the ignition.

"Why? Why are we here?" Sarah asked suspiciously as she glared at Lincoln. She still had not gotten over the part he played the night before. "What's going on?"

"I dunno what Dave and those boys told you but kid, you are one lousy vampire. You know that right?" Lincoln opened the door and stepped out of the car. He rested his arm on the roof while he quickly checked their surroundings to make sure that they were utterly alone. There wasn't so much as a rabbit for miles.

"Thanks for pointing that out. As if I didn't know already." Sarah grumbled darkly while she hugged her knees to her chest. She did not give a damn if she marked up the immaculate leather seat with her boots.

Lincoln's right eye twitched ever so slightly when he leaned over and stuck his head back into the car. It would be an understatement to say that Lincoln was slightly bothered by Sarah's feet being on the seat. This was his baby and truth be told he loved the damn car more than anything else in the world. No woman could ever compare to the Chevelle.

Ever.

"Yeah well you gotta face facts if you're wanna survive."

"And what if I don't want to?" Sarah snapped as she hugged her knees tighter, curling into a protective ball.

Lincoln eyed her for a moment. "You don't got a choice."

Sarah shook her head.

"There's always a choice."

"Not in this life sweetheart."

Lincoln chuckled darkly as he patted the roof of the car and closed the door. Boy, did he have his work cut out for him.

"C'mon out here, I got somethin' to show you." Lincoln moved around the front of the car so that Sarah could track him as he knocked on the windshield to get her attention.

Sarah buried her head in her arms in order to ignore his persistent knocking.

Lincoln sighed and had to mentally remind himself that he was not supposed drag her out of the car by her hair. Lucard had told him that this would not be easy. Running his left hand across the back of his neck he opened the passenger door and stood there waiting.

"C'mon out."

That was not a question but a command.

Sarah shivered at his tone but despite her better judgment did what she was told and got out of the car.

"Now the Boss wants me to show you the ropes. Understand?" Lincoln explained as he slammed the door shut and leaned against the side of the car while Sarah stood away from him with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "So I figure that you already know the basics. Right?"

Sarah nodded her head and muttered a quiet "yeah" under her breath as she began to dig at the dirt with the toe of her boot.

"Good. Judgin' from what I've seen you're one of them what we call "small fangs"." Lincoln casually commented as he dug a fresh Cuban cigar out of an inner pocket of his leather jacket and gave it an appreciative sniff.

"Small fangs?"

Sarah glanced at him as Lincoln grinned now the he had her attention.

"That's right. You're a vampire who don't want to be a vamp. Am I right?" He asked as he bit off one end of the cigar and spat it out.

"Is that such a crime?" Sarah asked him as she watched him with guarded eyes. She knew that he was playing at something but was not sure what it was.

"No, it ain't. But I'll tell you this. Small fangs don't last long. Longest I heard tell was about a year...and that was by pure dumb luck." Lincoln withdrew his lighter from his pocket and lit the cigar, puffing on it slowly in order to get it going.

Sarah frowned.

"Why...don't we survive?"

Her voice was a quiet as a mouse sneeze.

Lincoln arched an eyebrow.

"Cause you're pathetic."

"I am not!" Sarah bristled.

Lincoln continued to smile as he snapped his lighter closed and pocketed it. "Yes you are."

"Piss off!"

Sarah shot him her fiercest glare and he choked on a cloud of cigar smoke in order to keep from laughing.

"Make me. As if you could. Small fangs don't last long 'cause you get all guilty conscience when you gotta do the "evil deed" and you just can't live with yourself because you kill _innocent_ people. Boo-fuckin'-hoo. So you either starve to death or you get so whiney and obnoxious that the rest of us'll just kill you so that we don't have to hear about it. Small fangs are so friggin' annoyin' it ain't funny."

"Well that's good to know." Sarah kicked a cloud of dirt in his direction without thinking.

"Kid, let me tell you somethin'. Out there, the world's tiniest violin is playin' just for you and you know what? Nobody gives a damn." Lincoln pointed his cigar towards the horizon with a sweep of his arm.

"Truth's a real bitch ain't it?"

"Are you done? So I'm some pathetic excuse of a vampire. I didn't ask to be this way! I didn't have a choice!" Sarah shouted at him as Lincoln's words stung sharply. She turned to storm off in a huff only to realize there as nowhere to go. There was nothing but dirt, shrubs and rocks for as far as the eye could see.

"Neither did I but you don't see me complainin' about it do you?" Lincoln took a long drag on his cigar and exhaled a perfect smoke ring. He kept his eye on her as he shifted against the car. He looked like he could not care less about what was going on.

"That's because you're...,"Sarah started but then her words trailed off as she kept her back to him.

"I'm what?" He cocked his head to the side and waited, fully knowing what she was going to say.

Sarah squared her shoulders and turned around.

"You're...you like being a vampire. You like killing people. You get off on being evil." She hissed the last word to emphasize her meaning.

Lincoln chewed thoughtfully on his cigar before he decided to answer.

"That don't make me Satan's Bastard even if I do like to kill folks."

Sarah shook her head as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "It's wrong! You shouldn't kill people!"

"Cause I'll go to hell?" Lincoln laughed long and hard as Sarah stood there with her mouth hanging open. "Ah Christ kid. Open your eyes and take a good look around you. Sarah, we're already in hell. The devil's got nothin' on me."

"You really like doing this to me don't you?" Sarah snapped her mouth shut as her hands instantly balled into protective fists while Lincoln continued to chuckle to himself.

"I'm just tryin' to get you to get your head outta your ass and see things for what they really are. You try doin' that in one night and see how easy you find it. I got years of brainwashin' bible thumpin' to knock outta you." Lincoln nodded his head as he took another drag on his cigar clearly amused by her reaction.

"You won't change my mind." Sarah shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest once more, this time with more assurance. She gave him a self-assured look as a challenge for him to even try.

"I don't have to." Lincoln shrugged as he exhaled.

"Oh really?" Sarah asked. She did not believe that for a second.

Lincoln rolled his eyes as he turned his head to face her. "Yes really. Here's somethin' that you won't go findin' in any high school textbook. Vampires are supposed to be soulless bloodsucking demons who are evil incarnate right?"

Sarah nodded. "Yes."

"We kill people right?"

"Yes. So?"

"Now why you suppose we kill people? Cause we got nothin' better to do?" Lincoln asked as he tapped the ashes off the end of the cigar. The question caught Sarah off-guard.

"You do it because..."

Sarah was about to say "you're evil" but realization interfered before she could. Lincoln watched Sarah's expression change and waited for the right answer. He was not disappointed.

"...because we have to."

Sarah suddenly looked small and vulnerable as she realized the deeper meaning in what she had said. Lincoln pretended not to notice as he busied himself with the cigar.

"That's right. We kill all those innocent Jesus lovin' bible kissin' folks out there because we have to. We do it cause that's how we _survive_. Predators gotta eat too so what do you think they chomp on? That's how nature works sweetheart. Predator and prey, food chains, the facts of life, all that crap."

"That doesn't justify why we have to kill people. I mean, why can't we kill animals?" Sarah was grasping at straws and they both knew it. But instead of shooting her down Lincoln decided to take a different route. The kid had had her entire life taken away from her without so much as a warning and deep down Lincoln could sympathize with that. Not that he would ever outwardly admit it but in a way he kind of felt sorry for her.

"That's an honest enough question. Have you ever tried takin' a bite out of an animal?" Lincoln asked her, fielding her question with one of his own. He was not going to spoon feed her. She was going to have to work at getting the answers on her own. It was the only way that she would learn.

"No." Sarah shook her head.

"Why not?" He asked.

Sarah thought about it. "I don't know."

"Oh yes you do. You've been a vampire for what three, four weeks? Why haven't you tried drinking animal blood before Miss Guilty Conscience?" He asked her with a small smirk as he tapped off the ashes once again before he ground the end of the cigar against the palm of his hand to extinguish it.

"Because...I just..." Sarah could not give him a straight answer because she really did not know why she had never considered feeding off animals. She had opportunities to do so over the past weeks but it had never occurred to her to try.

Somehow Lincoln seemed to sense this and he said exactly what she was thinking.

"They don't seem all that appetizing right? You wanna know the reason?"

"There's a reason?" Sarah gave him a puzzled look.

"Shoo, course there's a reason. There's always a reason." Lincoln snorted as he placed the cigar back into his inner coat pocket so that he could save it for later.

Sarah took a step forward. "Then what is it?"

"It's our job to keep the numbers down." Lincoln told her plain and simple like.

Sarah gave him a strange look, not quite getting at what he was saying. "What?"

"H'okay. Let's see. How am I gonna explain this so that you'll understand? Right, you ever been campin' before?" Lincoln began. He wasn't exactly what people would call teacher material because the last time he had tried to explain Vampire Ethics 101 the baby bat had flipped out and got hit by a bus. Hence the whole reason why he and Sarah were standing in the middle of nowhere. There were no buses.

"Yeah, my family and I go...went every summer. Why?" Sarah quickly corrected herself when she slipped up. For her, her family no longer existed. They could not. That was something that David had spent days drilling into her head.

"Now someone musta told you about the animals that live in forest right?" He asked. The last thing he needed right now was to go through a whole speech about which furry critters ate who and what.

"Lincoln I may be a _small fang_ but I'm not stupid." Sarah replied with some serious sarcasm. She was sixteen, not six.

"I never said you was. So you know all about what goes on in the woods. Well not everything. Now what do you think would happen if one day there were no more wolves, bears, cougars, owls or any other animal that killed to survive?"

"The ecosystem would be off-balance. Duh." Sarah snorted. She suddenly felt like she was back in her sixth grade science class.

"That's right. Everythin' would be outta whack. No predators means the prey species flourish and when that happens there's nothin' there to keep the numbers in check so everythin' goes straight to hell. Too many cute fuzzy animals, total chaos. So now ol' nature's gotta figure out a way to get the balance back. That's when you get your plagues, famines, droughts, disease and all that biblical crap. Soon everything starts to die off. Once that happens all those furry little critters go sayonara and the forest slowly starts to fix itself. You got all that?" He asked her just to make sure she was with him on the same brain wave.

"Yeah. So you're saying that vampires are around to keep the human population down? Do I look like a moron to you?"

Man was this guy serious?

"I dunno...are you?" Lincoln's eyebrows rose in question.

"NO!" Sarah snapped.

"Then why'd you bring it up?" Lincoln asked, playing dumb.

"Oh you are _so_ funny Lincoln. Maybe I'll laugh next time."

"God you rookies are damn well hard-headed. You think you got it all figured out when you don't know shit." Lincoln shook his head and pushed away from the car. He did not look over his shoulder when he started for the highway. With his back turned to her there was no way Sarah could see the broad jackal grin on his face.

"Oh yeah? Okay Mr. Bigshot tell me this. Let's just say vampires are supposed to keep human numbers in check...then why are there over 6 billion people on the planet? Looks like you guys are doing a _swell_ job."

Sarah started to follow Lincoln. She did not know where he was going and she did not care. She just did not want to be left alone in the middle of nowhere. Lincoln waved and started to whistle a tune while Sarah hurried after him.

"Well?"

"Whaddaya expect? Humans breed like rabbits. Do you have any idea how hard it is when the odds are six hundred thousand to one? Remember kid, humans are mammals and so are we, kinda. And like all things in life, there's always a bigger fish. Humans eat just about everythin' on the damn planet so who's gonna eat them? Us. But humans are probably the most destructive species ever to crawl outta the primordial ooze. No other species has ever managed to cause so much destruction in so little time. One day humans are gonna destroy this planet and it's curtains for all of us."

Lincoln didn't miss a beat as he continued onward while Sarah nearly tripped over her own feet as she tried keep up with his long strides.

"But that still doesn't explain why we just can't live off of the blood of cows or something." Sarah sidestepped out of the way when Lincoln stopped suddenly and turned. For a second she thought that she had said something to piss him off but his snort of laughter dispelled that thought.

"Have you ever tried cow blood? It's like drinkin' mud. You _could_ survive off it if you had no other choice but you'd end up weak and useless in a matter of days if you kept it up." Lincoln made a face as the idea of cow blood left a sour taste in his mouth. He knew the effects of surviving off of livestock all too well. For a month Lucard had forced him to feed on sheep and only sheep as a way of bleeding the insolence out of him. Needless to say that tactic worked like a charm.

"And a weak vampire is a dead vampire. Don't think for a second that other vampires won't kill you. Natural law still applies to us deadbeats. Survival of the fittest is the first commandment for us." Lincoln's devilish grin turned into a hard scowl and Sarah knew that he was being dead serious.

"No one ever told me that..."

Sarah started but Lincoln waved off her excuse.

"I figured. Despite what the preachers and story books tell you, vampires don't come from the fire pits of of the underworld. We're anomalies...that's how Lucard put it. Humans started to get outta control and nature had to do somethin' to fix that so we evolved. New top predator to keep things in balance. Same goes for werewolves, even if they are half-brained fuckers."

Lincoln horked up a wad of spit and spat off to the side. He liked werewolves even less than he liked Max and he loathed the guy.

Sarah chose to ignore his lack of manners as she tried to get her head around what Lincoln had implied. "Wait. So vampires are supposed to be here?"

"That's right. Welcome to the conversation." Lincoln reached over and clapped her on the shoulder but Sarah slipped out from under his fingers and stepped away.

"That doesn't make any stupid sense!"

"It don't?"

"No! Everyone knows that vampires are..."

Lincoln stepped forward and placed his hand over her mouth to shut her up for a second before she could start ranting about evil this and damned that.

"Evil fiends from hell?" Lincoln said as he wagged a finger in her direction. He ignored the look she gave him.

"Yeah that's what the Europeans said about the wolves in the Middle Ages and lookit what happened to them. Got wiped out clear across the continent. Why? Cause humans are a prey species. They fear things that they can't understand. Specially if it's stronger than them. Just like a rabbit is damn well afraid of a dog. So human's bein' the only thing on the planet with religion, they get together and decide that "Hey! Wolves have the power to kill us. They must be evil. Kill them all!" And that's what they did. Same thing goes for us. They write books about us, always get the facts wrong, and since stories about us have been around for centuries everyone believes that we're just plain evil. Always gotta destroy what they don't get. I swear organized religions are the worst thing to come from humans."

Sarah yanked his hand away from her face. "Why would you say that?"

"Religion always leads to war. Don't matter what kind it is, there has been a war for every one of them." Lincoln said matter-of-factly as he scratched his chin.

"What?" Sarah gave him a calculating stare. Her family had been very religious. Her uncle was a high-ranking bishop which was why the Catholic Church had played a major role in her upbringing. However she did not know what Lincoln was talking about.

What wars? When?

Lincoln could practically see the wheels spinning in Sarah's head. He shook his own as he draped an arm over Sarah's shoulders and explained.

"One word: Crusades. Pointless. Killed hundreds of thousands and for what? Just cause one guy said that his god was better than some other guys? Bullshit. It was all a big ol' power grab. Ain't that a sorry excuse for a mass murder? I'll tell ya this princess, mankind is just as bad as we are."

"You're just feeding me a story Lincoln." Sarah muttered as she hugged herself while Lincoln chucked her under her chin with the back of his hand.

"Like hell I am. We _feed_ to survive. Humans _kill_ for the pleasure." He pointed out, emphasizing the difference between the two. That was the key to the whole idea.

Vampires do not just kill humans mindlessly; they kill to eat whereas humans will kill each other for the hell of it.

See the difference?

"That's not true."

"Oh it ain't? Sarah, who created the sword? Who created the gun? Who created the nuke? Man, not us _evil nasty_ vampires, but man. We got our fangs and the instincts that good ol' Mother Nature gave us and that's good enough for us. Yet for some reason men just gotta bomb the hell outta each other. Humans kill more humans than all the vampires on this stinking piece of rock combined. Did you know that? And they're just doin' it for the hell of it! Damn waste. The thing that kills me is that it only takes one nuke to wipe every little spec clean outta existence and that kind of power is held in the hands of a species that can't stop killing itself. Fuckin' ironic right?"

The two stood in silence for a moment while the truth of Lincoln's words finally sunk in.

"But what about us? Don't tell me that we don't kill for pleasure. I know we do. I've got eyes, I've seen it happen." Sarah looked up at Lincoln's face so that she could read it. Was this just some giant lie that was being said to get her to play along or was Lincoln telling the truth? And if he was, then how did he account for the sheer brutality that she had witnessed over the past weeks?

Lincoln looked down and met her gaze as he gave her shoulders a squeeze.

"Hey, we ain't saints. We do what we gotta do cause we have to and yes sometimes we can go to town. That's just who and what we are. We were human once, we still got that wasteful streak in us. Some of us can control it real good like the Boss. Others, well...we ain't so strong willed. But the thing is we know when we go too far. If we don't then others do and they make damn sure that we find out. The ones that really go overboard never make that mistake again."

"Like you?"

The words jumped out of Sarah's mouth as if they had a mind of their own. Sarah froze, fearful that she had stepped out of line. When she had been with David and the others she knew better than to accuse or challenge them in any way because if she did she would get into trouble. She had no way of knowing if Lincoln would react in a similar manner.

Lincoln felt her tense under his arm and he found it entertaining. "What about me?"

"Somehow you don't strike me as the type that would be satisfied with the basics." Sarah carefully worded her response so that she would not blurt out something along the lines of Lincoln being a glutton for carnage and slaughter.

"How'd you figure that?" Lincoln mused.

Sarah shrugged slightly. "You're like David and I've seen David hunt. You guys always want more. Even if you don't get it, you still want it."

"Well it looks like you do have eyes in that pretty head of yours after all." Lincoln chuckled and messed up her hair with an affectionate ruffle. It was something that Sarah did not find amusing in the least and Lincoln knew it.

"I kind of figured that about sixteen years ago thanks." Sarah grumbled as she tried to jab Lincoln in the gut with her elbow. Like a seasoned fighter Lincoln swerved out of the way and pranced back a few steps as that trademark jackal grin of his made an appearance.

"Snarky aren't you? God Dave musta had one hell of a field day with you." He crossed his arms and grinned away as he pictured David tearing out his hair in frustration over Sarah's stubborn and blunt attitude. Ah, happy thoughts.

However such thoughts weren't exactly happy in Sarah's case. "I hope I gave him migraines."

"Oh really?" Lincoln asked curiously. He sensed that there was more to the story than just headaches.

"Forget him. So if I'm such a bleeding heart like you say I am, what then? I just up and die? I'm tired of hearing that." Sarah started to open up and give voice to what had been on her mind for a long time. "I didn't want this and now I'm stuck this way and all I ever get from anyone is them wondering how long it will be before I croak. You know what? I'm sick of it!"

"Are you now?" Lincoln's expression was well-controlled as he prodded her in the direction that he wanted her to go. He had finally gotten through some of her defences and now was his chance to find out exactly what was going on in that head of hers.

"Yes I am!" Sarah spat with such venom that Lincoln was taken slightly aback.

"Why? It's the truth ain't it?" He waited to see what her reaction would be.

"No!" Again another snarled response.

"It's not?"

He was close to making a breakthrough. He could feel it.

"No it's _not!_ I don't want to be part of the fang gang but I don't want to die either. I'm sick of everyone underestimating me." Sarah huffed as she shuffled from one foot to the other.

"Then what are you gonna do about it?" Lincoln asked calmly.

"I...I..."

Sarah's mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to say something but nothing came out. It had been weeks since she was able to speak so freely about what was bothering her to someone who actually listened that now that she had the chance she did not know what to say.

"You dunno."

The answer was simple and straightforward. Most importantly, it was the truth.

"No. I don't have a damn clue about what I'm supposed to do."

Sarah blinked sharply as the walls she had built to protect herself started to crumble. She tried to keep her facial expressions under control but Lincoln's answer seemed to trigger something deep inside of her, something that she had been avoiding ever since she was thrown into this nightmare. She honestly did not know what she was going to do. She didn't have a friggin' clue and that thought scared her more than anything.

"I don't know...they never told me...I don't...I..." Sarah sniffed hard as she quickly turned away so that Lincoln wouldn't see the tears well up in her eyes. "What am I going to do?"

Lincoln glanced down at his feet as he figured out his next move. He never was any good with the whole comforting thing. Damn.

"Well that's why I'm here. Dave may think he's the shit but that guy has some major flaws just like the rest of us. One of them being his ego. Can't stand repeatin' himself and hates it when things don't go his way." Lincoln chuckled as he tried to lighten the mood with a bit of humour.

"Got that right." Sarah sniffed as she quickly wiped at the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand.

"So I'm guessin' he was no Mr. Miyagi. And I know for a fact that them other idiots wouldn't have given you the time of day. Am I right?" Lincoln continued as Sarah got her emotional ducks in a row.

"They couldn't stand looking at me." She said thickly as she began to fiddle nervously with some of the hand stitched beading on the cuff of her jean jacket.

"Well, unlike those clowns, I don't got that problem. Sure you're a pain in the ass, but hell so am I. That's why I'm gonna show you what bein' a bloodsuckin' soulless minion of Satan is all about. Like I said, I gotta knock out all that crap you've been fed for years so I say we start now. If you don't want to, fine, but I sure as hell won't be the one to tell the Boss that another one of you girls decided to go martyr." Lincoln said as he rubbed the back of his neck. He had her on the line and now it was time to reel her in.

"Is that what happened to the others? The ones that Max traded off?" Sarah asked as she turned around and looked at him with wide eyes.

Lincoln nodded as he dropped his arm and shoved his hand into his back pocket.

"Yeah. Some didn't make it this far and the others...Let's just say things didn't work out as expected. Small fangs have the bad habit of goin' nuts or suicidal. Like I said, they decided to go the martyr route. Lotta good that did 'em."

"So Lucard didn't kill them?"

"Kill 'em? Hell no. What gave you that idea?" Lincoln gave her a strange look. Where did she come up with that one?

"I don't know. I just thought that if he was like Max..." Sarah murmured as she gave an embarrassed shrug.

The moment Lincoln heard the comparison he quickly jumped to the master vampire's defence.

"Whoa, _whoa_ , hang on there a sec now. The Boss is nothin' like that shit suckin' bastard. Sure he's got a mean streak in him but that's cause just about ever green-horn son-of-a-bitch vampire is out to get him. I'll say this for the old coot. That there's one vampire that gives a damn. Gave enough of one about me to beat the stupidity outta me. Just about any other Head Vampire woulda ripped my head off without thinkin' twice rather than give me a second chance. I sure was a bad seed when I was turned. Still am mind you, but I'm not as stupid as I was." Lincoln growled as he ran both hands roughly through his hair making it stick out at every angle.

"Really? I mean about the giving a damn part not the you being stupid part." Sarah was surprised at how loyal Lincoln seemed toward Lucard. David and the other Lost Boys hated Max like nobody's business. She had thought that it would be the same with Lincoln.

Lincoln nodded solemnly.

"Yep. Old Lucard gives a rat's ass about me and you. That's why we're standin' here."

"Oh. So now what?" Sarah asked after a moment.

"Well are you done feelin' sorry for yourself and ready to start learnin' your P's and Q's?"

Sarah looked down at her feet and kicked a small stone out of her way as she nodded.

"It's not like I have much of a choice."

"Hey, you said there was a choice, not me. It's your call sister."

Ah, the magic word. He had finally said it.

Well it was the truth. If Sarah chose to get her act together and smarten up a bit, she and Lincoln were going to be the vampiric equivalent of siblings. Sarah gave him a sharp look as if she didn't quite catch what he said. The corner of Lincoln's mouth twitched upward as he nodded his head. She had heard him right.

Sarah quickly thought about her options. She was a survivor. Since she didn't want to die a second time she really only had one choice to make.

"I guess."

Lincoln grinned his toothy grin once more. The Boss would be proud.

"Well then little sis, we got work to do."


	17. We Could Be Together

Vampires. You think you know them. And then they go and pull something like this. Lincoln gets creative in his role as Sensei and Sarah does her best to prove that she deserves a chance. However by the end of the lesson things take an unexpected turn. Who is the teacher and who is the student exactly?

(I did not realize it at the time but Lincoln and Sarah are a right pair of bloodsucking dorks whenever they're together. Now I have serious case of the squishy feels. Dammit!)

Chapter Theme Song: "We Could Be Together" by Debbie Gibson

* * *

It looked like all those chess lessons with the Boss paid off. Lincoln should ask for a raise in his monthly stipend. Couldn't hurt, right?

 _This round goes to me. Am I good or what?_

Sarah trailed after him as he headed back to his car. All that touchy feely "sharing is caring" crap was finally over and now the real work could begin.

"Right then. First thing you gotta learn is how to make a proper kill. For you it'll bet the hardest part. But once you got that down, it's all smooth highway drivin' from there."

Sarah slowed to a stop, suddenly uncomfortable. When he reached the Chevelle Lincoln clued in that she was no longer hot on his boot heels. He turned but Sarah would not meet his gaze.

"About that Lincoln...I'm no killer..."

Lincoln snorted.

"Sure you are. You'd be dead by now if you weren't."

Sarah rolled her eyes as she nervously gnawed on her lower lip. It was a habit that he was starting to pick up on.

"Yeah but I can't _kill_ people. I mean...I don't have that drive like you do...you know?"

That statement made Lincoln pause for a moment as he took his keys out of his back pocket.

"Lemme guess. David and those monkeys kept forcin' you to feed didn't they?"

When Sarah gave the expected nod Lincoln groaned and smacked his hand against the trunk of his muscle car.

"Great. Ain't that just _beautiful."_

Sarah shrunk back a bit at his biting tone but before she could retreat into her protective shell Lincoln quickly changed his tune. It would do him no good if she closed up on him now because then all of this would have been for nothing. He was not about to let that happen.

"Alright," Lincoln glanced down at his car keys, "well we're just gonna have to sort that shit out later. Force feedin' a vamp that won't take to the vein is probably the worst thing you could do. Especially off the bat. The vamp learns to fight against what should come naturally and then can't understand what their instincts are tryin' to tell them. It screws with your head. And once you get that stuck up in there that's when you get a shit load of problems. Case in point."

Sarah's fingers fiddled with the beadwork on her helter-skelter denim jacket as Lincoln gestured to all of her.

"So, you've never killed anyone on your own? Not once?"

Sarah shook her head and cleared her throat.

"Not without being pressured to."

Lincoln arched his scarred eyebrow.

"David?"

Sarah nodded.

"Figures. Well all that's about to change."

The keys in his hand jangled loudly as he selected one and popped open the trunk.

"See this? We're gonna consider this to be your first."

Lincoln motioned to dark gaping maw that was his Baby's deep trunk space. Curled up in a fetal position alongside the spare tire was a teenaged girl. She was gagged and bound hand and foot with duck tape. The girl blinked feebly as her eyes slowly adjusted to the sudden presence of light. When her eyes landed on Lincoln they widened and a second later she was screaming behind the gag. Her panicked efforts did nothing but amuse Lincoln. He just smiled and sucked his teeth.

"Sure does look appetizin' don't she?"

Sarah blanched when she saw what, or rather who, was lying in the trunk. "You can't be serious. Lincoln she's my age!"

"Yeah so?" Lincoln shrugged as he made a playful grab at the helpless girl. She shrieked and squirmed against her bindings which caused him to let loose a gleeful cackle that was borderline hyena.

Sarah shuddered.

"Bad idea. Very bad idea. I can't kill her!" Sarah wanted to puke. She could not stand to see him torment the girl, even if she was in no position to judge. In another time or place that could have been her. Hell, it had been her. Twice.

"Keep thinkin' that way and you're gonna end up dead a whole lot faster than you think." Lincoln reminded Sarah as he slipped a calloused finger through the girl's long auburn hair. It really was something to take a moment to bask in the scent of pure honest fear. Smelt like a bakery on a Saturday morning. Comforting and mouth-watering. So finger licking good Lincoln started to get off on it.

"But...," Sarah pleaded but Lincoln cut her off.

"Nu-uh. None of that. What'd I tell you? We kill to survive. Instead of steaks we live off blood. You gotta get used to it. And before you start gettin' any wild ideas that head of yours Miss Fussybritches, there ain't no such thing as a vegetarian vampire. The only thing we do with vegans is eat them. Blood or nothin'. What's it gonna be?" He asked as he viciously yanked out a lock of the girl's hair and blew the silky strands into the air.

Sarah eyed the drifting hair with a sour feeling in her stomach. "Couldn't you have gotten someone a little older?"

"Kid you gotta learn how to hunt. The younger they are, the louder they scream. And they're fast which is exactly what you need." Lincoln explained casually, completely at ease with the situation. He grabbed hold of the girl by her bound wrists and ankles and hoisted her out of the trunk as easy as a grocery parcel.

"So right now we're gonna cover the basics. When you get them down, then we can have us some real fun." Lincoln dropped the girl none too gently away from the Chevrolet. The last thing he wanted was to get blood on his Baby's immaculate paint job. He just had her waxed to a high heavenly shine and that was the way she was going to stay. It was a real bitch to get congealed blood off the chrome fenders and that was something that he knew from experience.

"What basics? I bite her on the neck and she dies." Sarah's wide eyes were glued on her potential victim as the terrified girl wriggled onto her stomach and started to inch across the desert floor like an over-sized inch worm. She had not given up hope yet. Poor stupid brave girl.

"It's that simple huh? Ah Christ, you crack me up. Lookit Sarah. Hey! Focus on me."

Lincoln snapped his fingers in order to get her attention.

"You gotta learn how to be a vampire. That means learin' how to accept yourself for what you are. Know what that means? You need to understand what exactly is goin' on beneath the surface. If it was as easy as goin' around bitin' people heck everyone would be doin' it. It's about skill, smarts, survival, and a whole lot more that I won't get into right now. The odds will always be stacked against you kid so you gotta learn how to manipulate the hand you're dealt. And you gotta want it. Bad. If you don't, you don't need me to explain the rest."

Lincoln lifted his foot and flipped the shaking teen onto her back before he rested the weight of his boot on her throat. It was effortless how he kept her pinned to the ground. He made it look so easy.

"Right."

Sarah swallowed hard as she looked from the girl, to Lincoln, and back again. There was no going back now. Sarah inhaled deeply and tried to ease the tension in her shoulders. She was not going fade and give up like the other girls. She wanted to survive. She was going to live. To hell with what David and the Boys had said. She was going to thrive and make them choke on their words.

Lincoln gave a happy purr once he saw the resolution on Sarah's face. Oh he knew that look all right. But could she back it? Only one way to find out.

He ran his tongue suggestively over the prominent points of his elongated canine teeth as he shifted into his vampiric visage. The Boss was the stuff of nightmares and dark truths long forgotten. Scary as fuck and ten times as ugly. Lincoln was his own beast. If war had a face it would look like his. The brutality of what he had experienced back in the 60's had certainly left its mark on him. On the inside and out. He was no beauty queen but he sure was a looker by vampire standards. Distinctively scarred and utterly unforgettable.

If only the dinks could get an eyeful of him now. Those gooks would shit themselves into the grave. Zipperheads, every last one of them.

Lincoln pulled his lips back in a silent wolf-like snarl of anger as the shadow of a memory passed behind his eyes. He gave his head a hard shake. No time for a stroll down that old memory hellscape. He had a job to do. He had to stay focused.

Bending forward he took his foot off the girl's neck and half-lifted her off the ground. He was none to gentle about it and his fingers left marks where they dug into her tanned skin. With a flash of teeth that showcased the serious hardware he sported Lincoln bit into soft flesh of her upper arm right below the shoulder joint. The bite was clean, precise, and deep enough to draw a steady stream of blood. Not much meat on this one but rich where it counted. Cheerleaders always had a brighter tang to them, especially when they were this scared. She was sweet and soft like a bruised peach just plucked off a branch. Lincoln could only imagine what the rest of her tasted like.

From behind the cloth gag the girl's screams were high-pitched and piercing. Lincoln's choice of location became pretty obvious. In the middle of nowhere no one was going to be able to hear the screams. It was a perfect killing ground.

The painful squeals made Sarah wince, but that was out of habit. For the first time in weeks she did not feel anxious about what she saw. Lincoln perform the simple act of blooding the crying figure in his grasp without so much as a by your leave. There was no over thinking involved, no second guesses or what ifs. He just did it. Simple as that.

Could it really be that easy?

With an animalistic growl Lincoln unlocked his jaws and dropped the girl. Blood spilled from his mouth and down the front of his shirt before he could get in one last swallow. The heady flavour of sugar and spice and everything nice gave him an instant rush that rocketed through his veins. Sweet as wine and twice as divine young blood had a pull that was almost impossible to resist. Almost. There was that familiar ache in his teeth that made him want to sink deeper with the next bite but he kept himself in check. He had only meant to bleed not drain. Lincoln stepped over the wounded teenager and headed right for Sarah. Smeared with blood that dripped from his chin that jackal grin of his was absolutely lethal. That quivering heap of bones on the ground was Sarah's kill but Lincoln knew that she was going to need a little encouragement from the get go.

"What are you doing?" Sarah felt a twinge of something alien squirm inside her as she began to back away. Every step she took, Lincoln mirrored with his own.

"You gotta want it."

His voice grated on her ears as rough as the growl of the Chevelle's powerful 454 engine. This was not his voice. It was not even human. It was something else. Something predatory.

"Okay now you're scaring me."

The change in Lincoln's voice unnerved her. The others never sounded like that. Maybe it was the aroma of fresh spilled blood or the feral reflection of Lincoln's eyes that caused something buried deep inside her core to rise to the surface. A shiver raced up Sarah's spine with enough force to shake her from head to toe.

"Is that a fact?"

Lincoln snickered as he stalked her, the blood on him scenting the air around them. Sarah shuddered as she closed her eyes but Lincoln did not give her the chance to try to reason her way off the edge. He got in close. Real close. Something Sarah would not expect from him. The Lost Boys had always stayed out of reach whenever she was around but Lincoln could not have cared less about personal boundaries.

"Back off!"

Sarah yelped when Lincoln came up behind her. His left arm snaked around her waist as his leather clad bulk surrounded her smaller frame. Sarah squirmed against his hold but the smell of him was incredible. The blood, it was like the world's most fragrant cologne. Why had it never smelt like this before?

"Make me." Lincoln's voice grated even lower in her ear. The rumbling vibration of his words was like an electric shock to her system. If she could have Sarah would have jumped out of her skin.

"Lincoln, stop it!" She hissed and tried to back-pedal out of his hold but to no avail. He was not about to let go now that he had her.

Step for step, side to side, he was there. Eyes that never blinked and a mouth that enticed her to try a taste. Just a taste. One would be enough to satisfy. Sarah did not hear the whimper in the back of her throat when she licked her lips. Her mouth had suddenly gone bone dry and her gums began to ache.

"Ow!"

With a hiss she brought her right hand to her mouth and sucked on her finger tips. Beads of blood pooled along the cuticles as her bitten fingernails began to lengthen into thick wickedly sharp points.

"Wha-?"

 _You gotta want it._

The words were never spoken even though it was his voice she heard in her head.

Panic sunk its ugly claws into the back of her neck. This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. Nothing felt familiar. He was too close. How were his words in her head? She had to get away way from him.

 _You gotta crave it._

There it was again. His voice. But the blood. There was so much of it.

 _You want it?_

Lincoln growled deep in his chest when he closed the gap. The Chevelle swayed on her wheel base as Lincoln pinned Sarah against the passenger door with a bit of force to emphasize the point. She was not a china doll and he was not going to treat her as such. She was a vampire, same as him, and vampires did not play nice. Lincoln planted his hands on either side of Sarah's shoulders, effectively trapping her between his arms and the metal machine that was not about to give an inch. His gaze never wavered as he waited out the wave of panic that had taken hold. It started to ebb the closer he brought his bloodied mouth to hers. He knew he had her when her eyes finally glazed over. Instinct had managed to finally take hold over her mind that had fought and failed against the inevitable.

 _Take it._

Sarah wanted to. Badly. He could feel it. There was a steady pulse of need that pulled him even closer until there was no space between them. He even made it easy. He lowered his head and stopped a mere half-inch from brushing her mouth with his own. But that last step had to be all her.

 _Go on._

Lincoln was not disappointed. The reaction was instantaneous. Sarah grabbed a fistful of his blood splattered shirt and leather jacket in her claws as she stood on tiptoe in order to lick the blood off his chin. His eyes dimmed slightly when she nuzzled him hungrily. Her tongue ran across the curve of his jaw and along the corners of his mouth in order to chase down every last trace of crimson she could find. He allowed the moment to draw itself out while she hunted for the taste she craved before he pulled back. Sarah's eyes flashed a hellish orange hue as she moved with him. She refused to let go of her death grip and one of her claws snagged on the thick steel zipper tread of his jacket.

"You gotta want it bad kid."

Sarah growled low and dangerous with eyes glowing like spitfires in the dark. Alright then. Without any hesitation Lincoln easily broke the hold with an expert's finesse before he grabbed Sarah by the scruff of her neck and belt. As easy as tossing a pigskin Lincoln pitched the fledgling vampire up and over roof of his car with a mad bark of laughter. Caught by surprise Sarah landed in a disgruntled heap on top of a dried out sage brush. She may be hungry but she was as green as spring grass when it came to being one of the undead. Lincoln chuckle as he shook his head. Shoo boy, she sure had a helluva lot to learn.

Not one to waste time Lincoln unclasped the bowie knife from its sheath on his hip. He sliced through the duck tape bindings and ripped the gag off the bleeding cheerleader's mouth just as she let loose a honest to goodness scream queen grade shriek that echoed across the empty desert. It was a thing of beauty, truly.

"An' there she goes!"

A wild whoop and click of teeth was all that was needed to get the petrified teenager up and moving. She did not stick round to find out what was coming next. Like a jackrabbit with its ass on fire the girl left a dust trail in her wake as she ran off screaming into the night.

"You want it?" Lincoln hooted with glee as Sarah prowled around the front of the Chevelle in full fang. She was cat-like in her looks, a refined scaled-down version of Lincoln's rough and rugged features. No two vampires were ever identical and the two of them looked about as different as night and day. Yet there was no denying the same predatory grace they shared in the way they moved. It took a second for Sarah to figure out that the girl was long gone as she stopped to investigate a small patch of blood that stained the parched earth where the girl had just been.

"Well ain't you just as sweet as pie."

He had the urge to tap her on the nose but Lincoln knew better than to put his hand anywhere near that mouth as she hissed at him, canines bared in warning. She sure was cute to look at but that meant jack shit if she was as mean as a bobcat with a stick of dynamite up its ass whenever she got the munchies.

"Mine!" Sarah snarled when Lincoln caught hold of the back of her jacket in order to keep her from heading in the wrong direction.

"Sure you want it?" Lincoln cackled and spun about so that he would not get knocked over as Sarah scratched and bit in order to get loose. Her attention was elsewhere as she sniffed the air like a bloodhound, eager to be off after the fleeing feast on toned legs.

"Mine...its mine!" Sarah yowled like a wildcat when her nose locked onto the smell of the girl's blood in the distance.

"Yeah?"

Lincoln had a time of it as he worked to hold her back. He wanted to give the fleeing teen a decent head-start before he let go.

"Well go and get it then!"

Sarah did not need to be told twice. She hit the ground running and like a hound on a scent she ate up the distance faster than the human eye could follow. Begin a novice at the hunt Sarah had absolutely no mastery of the stealth approach whatsoever. She made a huge racket as she closed in on the girl, snarling and growling loud enough to wake the dead. Hearing this, the girl made the stupid mistake of looking behind her to see what followed. All that did was make her want to run faster. The highway was close by and if she pushed herself she could reach it. But a strip of paved asphalt across the desert was not going to protect her. Vampires had no issues with crossing highways.

Moving purely on instinct Sarah sped to catch up before she lunged forward, claws outstretched to hook the girl from behind. However Sarah miscalculated the distance and missed her target by a few feet. She managed to stick the landing but lost the advantage as the wounded teenager put everything she had into a desperate burst of speed. Learning from her mistake Sarah switched tactics and came at the girl from an angle instead of from directly behind. When she got within striking distance she tensed and sprang into the air like a serval cat. Momentum carried her forward and upward as the cheerleader swerved at the last second. Sarah got lucky. A well-timed smack to the back of the head was enough to bring her down on her ass.

A cloud of dust and debris was kicked up as the two girls tumbled across the ground locked together in combat. The cheerleader fought for her life while Sarah fought for the kill. If the peabody folks over at National Geographic had been passing by they would have had a freaking field day with how everything played out. It was a perfect example of predator verses prey in the wild. There was nothing human about how Sarah latched onto the girl's uninjured arm with her teeth and hooked her claws into the exposed skin. The blow had only managed to stun the girl instead of breaking her neck as was the intention. When Sarah tore into her arm the girl fought back with a viciousness born of desperation. Eye were gouged, hair was pulled, and ribs were fractured as the teen put to use some serious self-defence moves that she had learned in what had at the time been a useless mandatory lesson in P.E.

Sarah gasped when a knee drove into her abdomen with enough force to knock the wind out of her. Her bite lost its hold when the other girl bucked her hips and drove the palm of her hand up into Sarah's chin. Fangs clicked painfully as she bit down on her tongue and almost severed it from the force of the strike. This time it was Sarah's turn to shriek as blood pool in her mouth and sprayed into the girl's face. It was a bloody mess of a toss up tussle where the extent of Sarah's inexperience really came through. Vampire or not she was on the receiving end of determined beat down from someone who simply was not about to give up and die.

Lincoln watched the scene from a short distance off and wondered if maybe he should have started off easy and gone with a geriatric. He was impressed by how dirty the cheerleader could go with the cheap shots. The girl had her legs locked around Sarah's waist and twisted up in a solid choke-hold that Sarah was not able to break. When a decent sized rock found its way into the cheerleader's hand Lincoln knew the time had come for him to step in before things got carried away. A little girl-on-girl action never hurt none but it was all fun and games until Sarah's brains ended up splattered across the interstate. That was not a mess he wanted to clean up.

Quick as a snake Lincoln moved in. The big bowie flashed as it sliced clean through the girl's throat with a slick caress that left her paralyzed. He stepped out of reach as the torn jugular vein became a fountain of gore that spurred Sarah on. There was a wet cracking sound and the girl's head came clean off as Sarah dug in ravenously.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" Lincoln crowed as a great spurt of hot blood sprayed Sarah right in the eye. She yelped in surprise and shook her head like a dog. Covered head to toe in fresh carnage she looked like something straight out of one of those Elm Street horror flicks. In Lincoln eyes it was right adorable. The kid made an honest kill. Sure she had needed a little help but she took to it in the end. This was a proud moment that caught him by surprise.

"Oh my god. Is it always like this?" Sarah wheezed as she tried to rub the blood from her eyes so that she could actually see what she had done.

"Oh yeah. It gets better, trust me. Especially when you figure out how to do it properly." Lincoln took a bandana out of his jacket pocket and lowered himself on one knee. Once he had managed to clean her up somewhat the bandana had gone from faded blue to dark red.

"Here, lemme take a look at you." He gently took her chin in his hand. "Not the worst kill I've seen, not the best neither. But I don't think the Boss needs to know how you almost got your teeth kicked in by a cheerleader. It'll be our little secret."

"Thanks."

"C'mere you." Lincoln snickered as he grabbed Sarah in a headlock and gave her hair a world-class fondling.

"Hey!" Sarah squawked as she jabbed Lincoln in the ribs. Caught up in the moment, the two tussled on the ground in a playful mock fight with Sarah getting in a few good shots before Lincoln won the round.

"You know what? You're all right kid. You did good."

Caught up in Lincoln's arms Sarah burrowed into the thick quilted lining of his leather jacket. All past apprehensions she held toward him had left. The success of the kill seemed to have united them on a level deeper than reason. Being around Lincoln was different then being around the Boys. David and the others had not wanted to have anything to do with her while Lincoln seemed at ease with filling the position of teacher. Funny how vampires could be so similar and yet so different.

"Please don't leave me alone like they did." Sarah whispered into his chest. "I can't stand it."

Lincoln's eyebrows shot up when she wrapped her arms around his chest and hugged him tightly. It was only a few short hours before when she could not stand to look at him. Now she was seeking his affection as if they were life-long siblings? Huh. How did that happen? Lincoln was puzzled over how such a drastic change could take place in such a short time-span until he realized that the answer was staring him in the face.

Sarah craved attention. For the weeks that she had been with David and his gang, she had been isolated and ostracized from everything they did. There was none of the mutual bonding that should have taken place. Everything they did with her was done because Max ordered it. To them Sarah had been nothing more than a chore.

That was a bum rap for a kid like her.

But things were different now. Lincoln did not push her away. He had taken the time to explain things and that simple action meant more to her then anything else he could have done. He gave her the attention she wanted and she had jumped at the chance to claim it.

"Hey, I'm right here." Lincoln said quietly as he allowed her to keep hugging him. Her sudden show of affection did not seem to bother him as much as he thought it would. He could not remember the last time he touched another person without having the intent to kill. He was not a touchy feely kind of guy but any stretch of the imagination. Yet deep down there was a small part of him that missed this sort of thing. It was, dare he think it, nice.

Lincoln's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what he felt. Why did this feel like it had Lucard's influence all over it? That old sneaky bastard. He knew exactly what would happen didn't he? Lincoln would bet the keys to his Chevelle that he had been played once again by the expert hand of the Master Vampire.

"Don't you worry none. I ain't goin' anywhere."

Lincoln thought hard in the moment as he glanced around at royal mess that they had created. The Boss was right to say that Sarah was going to make it. Lincoln could see it now. Well then if Sarah was going to be part of their dysfunctional makeshift family then she was going to be his around-the-clock responsibility. He now had one more to worry about and watch over during the daylight hours. That suited him fine. But he drew the line at slumber parties, makeovers, and whatever teenage angst girls considered a big deal these days. Let the Old Coot deal with wannabe boyfriends calling at all hours because that shit was beyond his pay grade.

Having accepted the situation for what it was Lincoln lowered his head and tried to make it as painless as possible as he swiftly pierced her throat and took what he needed. Sarah stiffened against him but for once did not fight back as he drank from her. Somehow she knew he would not hurt her. Her intuition proved true when he raised his head and offered her a clear shot his throat. She didn't think twice as her fangs instantly found their mark.

" _Now I'll be able to figure out what goes on in that noggin of yours."_ Lincoln's voice murmured as clear as a bell in her mind as she fed from him. " _I'll be able to find you no matter where you run off to and if you need me, all you have to do is think it and I'll be there."_

 _"Thank you."_

Sarah licked the wound clean and sighed. This was a dream. It had to be.

"Now don't you go gettin' all mushy on me."

"Look who's talking." Sarah touched her nose with his in an Eskimo kiss. Amidst the carnage of her feeding-frenzy along the empty stretch of highway, Sarah finally felt like she belonged.

Sarah rolled her eyes as Lincoln pressed his forehead against hers and chuckled quietly. He nuzzled the side of her face and licked off a smear of blood off her ear that he had missed. Sarah giggled as the scratchy stubble on his chin brushed against her cheek and playfully nipped his nose as he grinned and traced his fangs along the hollow of her throat. Hellfire in their eyes and fangs in this mouths they were quite the strange pair surrounded by death out in the middle of the desert.

"Can we get more? Please Lincoln? Can we? Please?"

A fully-fledged vampire covered in blood with big innocent burning eyes asking for more, he just could not say no to that face.

"Jesus H Christ on a wooden cross you are gonna be trouble. I can feel it."

"I am?"

"I knew you'd take after me." Lincoln threw his head back and laughed long and hard. Old Lucard was sure gonna get a real kick out of this.


	18. Holding Out For A Hero

**Story update** : The first chapter of "Little Fighter" has been heavily edited and updated as I realized that my earlier attempt at edits do not amount to a hill of baked beans. Apologies for that! Chapters Two through Four will also get the polish treatment. After that it's all systems are go. Enjoy!

Chapter Theme Song: "Holding Out for a Hero" by Bonnie Tyler

* * *

There was reckless and then there was suicidal. Marko breached that gap easily as he pushed his bike to the absolute limit. Without the reflexes of a nightcrawler he would have been nothing more than a bloodstain on the rocky sand along the outer cliffs of Santa Carla. The threat of an eminent wipeout did not deter him from riding hellbent for leather across the empty expanse of the coastline. He had only one thing on his mind and it drove him onward into the sheer darkness as if the Devil himself was riding bitch on his bike.

He had to get to David. He had to let him know.

The engine coughed as Marko slid into a deadman's stop next to the condemned wooden stairway that led down to the network of caves below. Unaffected by the sheer one hundred and fifty foot drop that stretched out before him Marko did not give a rats ass if anyone saw the bike left out in the open. There was only one thing he cared about and it was not the standard safety precautions.

"Piss off!" Marko swore as his foot snagged the kickstand. He managed to free himself after he gave the bike a vicious kick. Forget the stairs. There was no time. Without hesitation he launched himself off the edge of the cliff and flew into the cave with a cold gust of wind in his wake.

"David! David!"

Marko's frantic yelps echoed off the cave walls as he messed up the landing, nearly tripping over his own feet as he stumbled down the precarious ramp of rubble like a drunken lunatic.

Paul cracked open an eye as Marko bolted past him, David's name echoing off the rock walls.

"Where's the fire?" Paul croaked as he lifted his head from the half-torn rags that were his makeshift pillow.

Even though two nights had past since Lincoln's unexpected visit Paul was not in top shape. The tear that had left his innards exposed had finally healed during the second day. There was not so much as a faint scar to remind him of the grizzly token of mutual dislike that he had received. But on a mental level, Paul had yet to get over the fact that his guts had been used to decorated the cave. That was something he had to come to terms with. That grinning redneck son-of-a-bitch had wiped the floor with him and left him to bleed out like a herring. It was not just embarrassing. It had jarred him emotionally. He had been baited and walked right into it blindly.

Now between the booze and the ecstasy he was currently enjoying, Paul was as mellow as a puddle. He could not be bothered by Marko or all the racket that went with him.

"Where's David? Paul where is he?" Marko demanded as he shot out of the narrow corridor that led off to the smaller caves that ran deeper into the cliff.

"Dunno...ask Jim." Paul grumbled and rolled over so that he could bury his head in the rags.

"Jim? Jesus Paul this is serious! _Where did David go!_ " Marko swore as he grabbed Paul by the shoulder and shook him. Paul's head snapped back as he reacted instinctively without thinking. With a vicious snarl of warning he snapped at Marko's hand.

"Don't you touch me." Paul growled as he glared at the colourful blur that was Marko. Or it could have been a lamp. Eh, whatever. Marko should know better than to pull any sudden moves on him when he was freebasing.

"Shit!" Marko brought his hand to his mouth and sucked on the shallow wound that Paul's teeth had inflicted. Great. Now what? Where was David? Where was Dwayne? Where the hell was everyone!

"What do I do? Oh man, what do I do?" Marko began to pace back and forth. Paul was a lost cause until the high wore off, which could take hours, and they were alone in the cave. Marko had no idea if he should leave the cave to go out and find the others That would mean leaving Paul alone and vulnerable. Why did he have to pick tonight to throw himself a pity party?

"Think man. Just think for a second."

Did the others know? If they knew then they would already be here. Wouldn't they? So, that meant that they had no idea. Okay. If they did not know then Max was still in the dark. Which bought them some time. So what were they going to do when Max found out? What if Max already knew and he was going to make good on his threat to destroy them if this exact situation ever happened? What if David and Dwayne were already dead? What if he was next?

"We're so screwed." Marko creeped toward the verge of a nervous breakdown. There was not much out there that could shake him up like this but the dread that coursed through him at the very thought of what Max could and would do once he got wind of the news was so profound that it was beyond Marko's ability to control.

They were fucked. Royally, totally, simply, completely and utterly fucked.

"What do I do?" Marko gnawed on his lower lip. He looked upward up as if seeking some sort of divine inspiration. There was none. Oh well.

"Oh man."

Marko swallowed hard as he hurried over to one end of the cave. He wedged himself into a shadowy corner that had a clear view of the entranceway. He had no idea who would appear but whoever it was he was going to get a clear shot if it was the last thing he did. Hugging his knees to his chest, Marko curled into a ball and waited. There was nothing else he could do. Paul was sprawled on the couch, out of touch with reality, and beyond being of any use. If Max charged into the cave before the others returned Paul would be snuffed out in a blink of an eye. But at least he would go out without knowing what hit him. Marko knew that he would not be so fortunate.

And so he waited. Thirty-five minutes felt like hours as a number of different scenarios that involved Max played out in his head, each one more morbid than the last. He managed to work himself up into a mental frenzy that by the time Dwayne finally returned Marko had scared himself absolutely neurotic.

"Paul have you seen...Marko?" Dwayne peered into the shadowy corner that Marko had taken refuge in. He did not quite believe what he saw. Was Marko actually shaking?

Dwayne waited for an answer. When there was none he slowly approached the half-hidden vampire. His expression grew grim when he saw Marko huddled there with his face buried in his arms. When there was no reaction to a mental nudge, Dwayne knew that something horrible had gone down.

"What happened?" Dwayne asked cautiously. Was it Lincoln? He had spent the majority of the night scouring the Boardwalk and the surrounding area for that bastard but all he had managed to find was a cold trail that led nowhere.

Marko did not look up when Dwayne crouched down in front of him.

"Where's David?"

"He's not here?" Dwayne frowned, his dark eyes serious.

"Where's David Dwayne? Where is he?" Marko asked a second time on repeat.

"Marko, look at me. Tell me what he did."

Marko shook his head and asked for David a third time.

The expression of Dwayne's face could have been chiseled out of granite as he sat back on his heels and watched Marko rock himself from side to side. He had never seen Marko so wound-up like this. A strung-out Paul was one thing but Marko? He had more backbone than most vampires. What could have happened to reduce him a mumbling wreck?

"Marko, I don't know where David is. You need to tell me what is going on."

A shiver ran through Marko's body as the thought of Max loomed larger than life in his mind's eye.

"Have to warn David. Got to warn him. It's bad Dwayne. David needs to know. He needs to know."

"What does he need to know?"

"He needs to know Dwayne!"

"Know what? Marko, look at me. Tell me what is going on."

"Where'd David? Why isn't he here?"

"I'm right here."

David's voice rang out as he appeared as if summoned from the shadows. He looked like hell warmed over in July with dark rings under his bloodshot eyes and his skin a sickly shade of grey. David had not slept for the past two days and his sullen withdrawn expression proved it. He studied Marko for a moment.

"What's his problem?"

"Don't know. Where the hell have you been?" Dwayne asked as he rose to his feet.

"Where do you think?"

"I've been all over the city and couldn't find a decent trace of that asshole. I think he skipped town and if he did we're going to need Max's permission to track him down outside of our borders...what? What's so funny?"

Dwayne scowled darkly as David laughed quietly to himself.

"We're not going after Lincoln." David spat as he made his way to one of the fire barrels and hastily lit a cigarette.

"What?"

"Are you hard of hearing all of a sudden? I said we are not going after him."

David carefully articulated his words so that Dwayne could fully grasp what was being implied. There may have been a snarky edge to his tone as he inhaled a lungful of tobacco smoke.

"And why the hell not? You saw what the guy did to Paul! He almost killed him and we're just going to let that slide? He needs to pay David. What's wrong with you?" Dwayne watched David inhale the cigarette and light another seconds later. That one was finished off faster than the first.

"Nothing." David hissed as he turned his back to Dwayne and headed for the elevator shaft.

Dwayne seethed in silence. David had been acting ornery ever since he had returned the night before. Whenever Dwayne approached him David just snapped and stormed off without an explanation. It was an act that got tired fast.

"David," Marko lifted his head and quickly wiped away any trace of tears with the back of his hand, "we've been found out."

David paused mid-step while in the middle of lighting a third cigarette.

Dwayne looked at Marko in alarm.

Paul rolled onto his back, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

"S'wha?" Paul mumbled in a garbled voice. Somehow a part of him had understood what Marko said through the thick chemical induced haze that blanketed in his mind.

"What. Did. You. Say?"

David's words were jagged shards of ice and the look he speared Marko with was equally as frozen.

"Paul was all over the news tonight. State-wide. They're blaming him for the murders that have been going on. They're using that mug shot from his old records to identify him. I don't know why they think it's him. He didn't do it. None of us did. But now everyone's out looking for him. It's only a matter of time before they find out...I don't know if Max knows yet."

Marko gave an involuntary shudder that the mention of Max's name.

"The reporter said that the cops had evidence from the latest crime scene. How? I mean, Paul was in the cave all last night when it happened right? So how could they have proof? It makes no sense. David it just doesn't make any sense."

Marko sniffed as he kept his eyes on David, waiting to seen what his reaction would be. David was the leader of their outfit and if anyone would know how to deal with a situation like this it would be him. Only David had the cunning to figure out how to get out of all this without being butchered by Max in the process. David was the only one to ever stand up to Max. He was their only hope.

"Evidence on Paul? That's impossible. We don't show up in pictures or on security cameras." Dwayne said, not quite believing what Marko had told them. It was practically impossible for the cops to have any dirt on Paul because he was not the one who committed the murders. None of them had.

The cave went quiet while the driftwood kindling in the metal fire barrels popped and hissed. No one spoke until something unexpected broke the tension. David started to laugh. Softly at first, more of a chuckle really, until it grew into a full-throated guffaw that made him double over.

"Well isn't this the icing on the cake?"

Marko and Dwayne just looked at each other in confusion. Huh?

"Well boys it looks like we've been played."

David wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye as he sniggered to himself. The whole messed up situation was actually funny. Oh how had he not seen this coming?

"What do you mean?"

David turned his attention on Marko. The hilarity of it all vanished as David's expression grew almost vicious with mirth.

"You are an idiot. Would you like me to spell it out for you? We have been set up."

"How?"

David just rolled his eyes. "How do you think?"

"Lincoln."

"We have ourselves a winner."

When the last puzzle piece finally fell into place Dwayne drove his fist into the cave wall with enough power behind it to crack the rock face.

"That asshole set us up!"

"And none of us suspected a thing. How did he manage that?" David mused to himself as he palmed yet another cigarette. This one he took his time with. He slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke as he went over everything in his head. He looked for clues but could find none except for the obvious.

The visit had been to get under their skin. It worked and he got to Paul. But before that? The other blatant killings left in the public eye for weeks? And what played out at Max's estate the other night? Lincoln had sat there, in the middle of Max's domain, and gave them all the proverbial finger without Max being aware of it. He had screwed Max over yet again and no one had seen him play his hand. It was like the train yard incident, only more subtle and elegant this time around.

"That crafty son-of-a-bitch. Right in front of Max the entire time too. And he doesn't even know it yet. It's genius. Insane, but brilliant."

Dwayne glared at David with fury in his eyes. "You done having a hard-on for this guy? I told you we should have killed him the night he came here. I told you David. And now look at what we have to deal with. Your _brother_ certainly has fucked us over real good."

"He has, hasn't he? Isn't it incredible?"

"What?" Paul propped himself up on an elbow. His glassy eyes trying to follow Dwayne as he stalked back and forth.

"No it's not! We're going to be the ones who take the fall for everything that happens now. Don't you realize that?"

"We gonna die?" Paul tried to put the words together but his brain was having a difficult time of it.

"Is that what you think?" David said sharply as he turned around and looked at them. Maybe it was the dim lighting but there was something unsettled about David's fixed expression.

"We're not gonna die now? I'm so confused man." Paul closed his eyes and shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

"It's not like Max is just going to let us off the hook for this. He'll likely skin us just for letting it happen."

Dwaynes words sunk in when they all realized that what he has said was true. Max had warned them repeatedly in great detail about what would happen if word of their existence ever got out. Even though the police had no idea of the truth about Paul, it would not take long before their cover was blown.

"God damn it! Why the hell didn't we go after him when we had the chance? This wouldn't be happening if you had listened to me David!"

"Really? What was I supposed to do? Let Paul bleed to death? Dwayne, this is beyond us. This is on Max." David shot back.

"To hell with Max! So we got screwed over hard. Great. What are we going to do about it _now_? Max is going to come here any minute and send us all to hell in hand-baskets. If we bail Max will track us. Do we take a stand? Do we do nothing? What?" Marko cut in as he scrambled to his feet. He gave the cave entrance a fearful look as he sensed something lurking in the shadows but after a few moments he looked away. It was probably just a rat or a stray pigeon or something.

David shook his head.

"I...," David started but the words were not there.

"You what? You don't know?" Dwayne bulled onward and forced David into a corner that he could not back out of. "David, don't do this!"

"Do this?" David's voice the epitome of control as he started at Dwayne. "Do what?"

Dwayne stood his ground, unwilling to back down, as David prowled toward him with a stare that did not waver.

"What exactly is it that you want me to do Dwayne? Turn back time? Pull a rabbit out of a fucking hat? Whenever there's trouble, you always come running to me to fix things. As if I have all the answers hidden away somewhere. The world could be coming to an end but you would automatically assume that somehow I could make it stop. Has anyone else taken it upon themselves to try to come up with a solution? Anyone? No? Well that's comforting. Not once has something happened that I did not have to be responsible for. _Not once_. And tell me Dwayne? Why is that? Hmmm? Can't answer? Don't know?"

David's eyes shifted from Dwayne and locked onto Marko.

"Maybe you can answer my question Marko. After all you are always the first one to cry wolf whenever there's trouble."

Marko flinched as if David's soft-spoken words had physically struck him. David saw his reaction and pressed on. He would not relent as he cut Marko down.

"Tell me Marko, what would you do if I told you that there wasn't anything I could do to prevent Max from coming down here right now...yes right now...and finishing us off. One by one. What would you do? Would you run? Where would you go? Or would you use your brain for once and try to figure something out instead of hiding in a corner, waiting for someone else to tell you what to do? Now wouldn't that be something?" David chuckled darkly as Marko wilted under his disgusted stare.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You want to know why? Really?" David questioned as he looked at both vampires for a moment.

"Well it's clear to me that if something ever happen to me, you three wouldn't stand a hope in hell of surviving on your own. You are my responsibility but you wouldn't last a month at best before another pack took you out. You all have become so dependent on me to think for you. When it comes down to it, immortality has gone straight to your heads. You think that _all_ _this_ is going to last forever. Well here's a newsflash boys, it's not! And it's time you got all that through your thick skulls because as it stands right now, there's a damn good chance that I won't be here tomorrow. Hell, none of us will! We've just had our death sentences handed to us on silver platters and I am not even mad. Honestly, I'm kind of thrilled. Because then I won't have to deal with this anymore!"

"What you talkin' about?" Paul exclaimed as David's words hung over their heads like a swinging pendulum of demise. Paul only took in snippets of the heated argument but some of it had started to sink in.

"Paul, just shut up." David closed his eyes for a moment. Sometimes it felt like he was talking to a wall, only the wall was more receptive.

"Whatever." Paul snorted before he was distracted by something that no one else could see. Something seemed to be moving in the shadows near the mouth of the cave.

"And as for this set-up thing, I don't have a clue about what I'm supposed to do. _Not a fucking clue._ Now tell me, is that a good enough answer for you two? Or should I keep going?"

If it was possible David would had aged during the time that he started speaking up until that very moment. He looked careworn and tired, like the weight of the world was on him.

Dwayne and Marko stood there, too dumbfounded by David's revelation to give him an answer. Dwayne's attention was focused solely on David as if he could see past the barrier into what was going on in David's head.

"What happened at the house? What did Max do?"

Ah, the magic question.

 _Clink!_

 _Clank!_

 _Clonk!_

As luck would have it David was spared from giving Dwayne an answer. Suddenly all eyes were locked on a small grey cylindrical canister that prattled down the uneven earthen ramp and rolled toward David before it came to a grudging stop at his feet.

"What the hell?" David looked at the thing and took a step back.

Nothing happened.

"Hey! I know what that is! It's a...a whatchamacallit! A smoke bomb! Yeah! I used to make those when I was a kid." Paul exclaimed. "But there's supposed to be smoke."

 _Poof!_

As if on cue, the cylinder cracked and a large white cloud of smoke billowed upward engulfing the vampires instantaneously in a small-scale mushroom cloud. Talk about perfect timing.

Speaking of timing...

"FREEZE BLOODSUCKERS!"

"DEATH TO ALL VAMPIRES!"

Edgar and Alan appeared at the mouth of the cave fully armed with water pistols, sharpened stakes, and water balloons filled with garlic powder and holy water. Their voices were muffled by the Army-issued gas-masks they sported but they seemed to understand each other if no one else could.

"Let's get 'em!" Alan crowed and the two Frog brothers charged into the smoke-filled cave like a pair of commandos bent on bringing the fight to the enemy.

"Go left!" Edgar launched himself at the faint silhouette of one of the blonde vampires. The smoke was as thick as sea-side fog.

"Edgar behind you!" Alan motioned with his water pistol for his brother to look behind him.

"I see him." Edgar growled as he whirled around and lobbed his homemade holy hand grenade. The smoke seemed to thicken until Edgar could barely see his hand in front of his face-mask. He would have to go by gut-instinct instead of sight as he hunted for his quarry, Señor Mullet Head.

"Over there! He's over there!" Alan voice came from somewhere in the dense smoke.

"Where?" Edgar dropped into a fighter's crouch and raised his water pistol to his shoulder, his finger on the trigger. He was moving blind but if he could not see anything, neither could the vampires. Their sense of sight may be amazing but not even undead x-ray vision could penetrate the smoke from Alan's homemade smoke screen.

"Over there, beside the toolbox...where'd he go?"

Alan paused for a moment as he glanced around. All he could see was white smoke and no Edgar. But he did sense a presence behind him.

Utilizing the same combat moves that he had studied religiously from countless Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris films Alan dropped to his knees and rolled to make himself a smaller target. When he hit the rock wall he wrenched a long wooden stake from his hand-made utility belt. He remained statue still, counting the timing of each breath, as he waited for whoever lurked nearby to move closer. He did not have to wait long.

"TAKE THAT!" Alan roared as he used the stake as a make-shift bat and swung at the figure's kneecaps in an attempt to knock him down.

"OWWW! It's me you moron!"

Edgar swore as he teetered back and landed on his ass, one hand on his throbbing shin while the other aimed the water pistol right at Alan's mask.

"Oh sorry man, I thought you were a vampire!" Alan huffed as he withdrew the sharpened stake away from Edgar's chest. He ditched the gas mask in order to take in a deep lungful of air. Big mistake.

"Whatever. They're around here somewhere." Edgar growled as Alan began to cough up a lung. He grabbed his brother by arm and helped him to his feet.

"I can't see any of them!" Alan wheezed as he peered into the smoke. "I think I overdid it with the smoke compound."

"You think?" Edgar muttered as he turned on the spot, careful to scan the dense white mist as it wafted toward the ceiling of the cave. The vampires had to be lurking nearby, but where?

"There's one! GOTCHA!" Alan yelled as he dove at a figure that moved past him. Edgar readied his water gun with both hands and prepared to fire at the leather-clad figure that Alan attempted to strangle. In the excitement Alan dropped his wooden stake in order to get a firm hold of the leather jacket that he grappled with.

"Ahh! Don't kill me!" A familiar voice yelped as a pair of hands tried to pry apart Alan's dead man grip.

"Who is that?" Edgar growled as he reluctantly lowered his water pistol and lifted his mask. "Ian?"

"Yeah...Alan let me go. Can't breathe." Ian gasped when Alan tightened his hold instead of loosening it.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be covering us!" Edgar barked as he went over to the two and managed to pull his brother off before he could do any serious damage.

"I am! I'm watching your backs like you said." Ian ruefully rubbed his throat as he swallowed hard.

Edgar gave him a look of disbelief. He did not know whether to laugh or curse.

"We didn't mean that literally!" Alan shouted at Ian.

"You didn't?" Ian looked confused as he hugged his neon green water pistol to his chest. He did not like being inside this cave. Not one bit.

"Oh great! Now our retreat's been compromised. Good going Ian!" Alan growled as he hunted around for his discarded stake.

"Hey! You told me to cover your backs and that's what I'm doing. You should have been more specific as to how. It's not like I've done this before." Ian muttered nervously as he looked left and right. He felt that they were being watched and that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. His gut was telling him to get the hell out of the cave and he would have done so if he only knew where the exist was.

Thankfully the smoke had started to thin a bit. It was impossible to see more than five or six feet in any direction though.

"Yeah well we got a bigger problem to worry about now." Edgar said in a tone that made Ian shiver.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Alan looked around but could see nothing moving in the smoke.

Edgar looked at Alan and Ian before he motioned upwards with his water pistol.

"Look up."

They tilted their heads back simultaneously and glanced upward.

"Ummm...guys?"

Ian swallowed hard.

"Ohhhh not good."

Alan stared slack-jawed in utter disbelief.

"Well shit."

Edgar was at a loss for words.

David, Dwayne, Marko and Paul hovered in mid-air like four giant vampires bats above the smoke. Their gleaming eyes and demonic faces were a dead giveaway that they were not happy about the intrusion. A chorus of blood-chilling growls let the wannabe vampire hunters know just how thoroughly screwed they suddenly were. The fact that the Frogs had caught them by complete surprise was the only reason why no one's throat had been torn out. Yet.

Ian's jaw flapped a few times before he managed to say the obvious. "They're...flying?"

"No shit."

Alan could not take his eyes off of Marko and Paul. They bared their teeth at him with the promise of a world full of pain in their eyes.

"Did either of you realize that this could happen before you decided to barge in here?" Ian muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he slowly moved toward Edgar as if being closer to the oldest Frog brother would somehow shield him from Dwayne's lethal stare.

"We didn't have time to think of the technical stuff." Edgar muttered back as he reluctantly wrenched his eyes away from David and quickly scanned the cave. The smoke had thinned out enough that he could sort of see the ramp.

"So now what do we do?" Alan asked quietly as they continued their stand-off with the vampires. Both parties waited to see who would make the first move.

"Retreat?" Edgar suggested.

"Sounds good." Ian readily agreed.

"Now?" Alan asked, gripping his stake tightly in his right hand.

"Now." Edgar gave a slight nod of his head.

" _RUN!"_

The three boys turned tail and bolted for the mouth of the cave as panic finally took over but the vampires were ready for them. A deadly wall of fang and leather appeared between the teenage monster hunters and their chance for survival as David and the others swooped down in unison. Paul was a little shaky on his feet but he was seriously jonesing for a bite while Marko took up the point position at the bottom of the ramp. Dwayne had the height advantage at the top of the ramp, ready to lunge with claws out while protecting their backs. David was front and centre with all of the poise and precision of a ringmaster although his eyes glowed like fire opals, all searing heat and danger.

"Big mistake."

The sneer that touched his eyes was savage and promised only one thing. Death. He gave the signal after a heart-stopping beat and the Lost Boys sprang into action. A trio of screams went up as the vampires launched themselves off the ramp. Hunting season was open and the wannabe heroes had suddenly become the hunted.


	19. Janie's Got A Gun

For the first time, in a long time, David gets served. If Star had even had an iota of Tory's snark the Lost Boys film would have been a completely different beast. But alas, you cannot keep a conniving vampire down for long. But what is David planning exactly? Where do the Frog Brothers fit into his grand design? And what is with those creepy bag lady nails of his? Curiouser and curiouser. Something foul is definitely afoot...and it is not an actual foot.

Chapter Theme Song: "Jaine's Got A Gun" by Aerosmith

* * *

"Goin' somewhere?" Paul dropped in front of the wayward trio and landed heavily on all fours.

Ian crashed chest first into the Frog brothers as the three of them skidded to a dead halt in front of the wasted metal-head.

"GAAAH!"

That was all Ian managed before Paul lunged at him, his razor-like claws aimed to sever his head from his shoulders.

"Look out!"

Alan grabbed Ian by the back of his bomber jacket and yanked him out of the way just in time. With Edgar still in the lead, they turned tail and bolted for the narrow archway that led to the internal caves.

Marko put a stop to that plan right quick.

"Don't think so boys!"

"Shit! Other way! Go the other way!" Edgar back-pedalled vaudeville style as Marko popped up in front of him like a demonic jack-in-the-box.

Despite all the smoke it was easy to see that Ian and the Frogs had nowhere else to run to. With Paul guarding the ramp and Marko covering the corridor, the teenagers were huddled against the busted chandelier that rested inside the empty basin of the ruined marble fountain. David and Dwayne slowly floated down on either side of the frightened trio and once they touched ground the vampires closed ranks.

Ian and the Frogs were trapped.

"Get back! These things are loaded and we're not afraid to use 'em!" Edgar threatened as Alan and Ian quickly stood shoulder to shoulder so that all three of them were standing back-to-back and faced the four vampires.

David eyed the water guns and snickered.

"What are you going to do? Squirt us?"

"Damn straight!" Alan barked as he aimed at David and pulled the trigger. Effortlessly David side-stepped the streaks of holy water faster than Alan could follow and the water gun was snatched out of his hands before he had time to react.

"Holy shit!"

Alan jumped, thoroughly spooked, and frantically clawed at his utility vest before he managed to wrench his combat knife out of its sheath. This he raised over his head, ready to plunge it into the next vampire that got too close.

"You missed." David gave the water gun a disgusted look and tossed it away.

"Guys….what do we do now?" Ian asked in a frightened voice. His arms were shaking as he kept his water gun aimed at Dwayne who in Ian's eyes seemed to be ten times taller than he actually was.

"Go down fighting." Edgar growled but there was no way that he could hide the scared tone in his voice.

"Oh yeah?"

All of Edgar's macho bravado was shattered when Marko simply moved in and snatched the water pistol out of his hands, along with the rest of the gear that was strapped to his chest. It was as easy as taking candy from a baby. Edgar looked down at his hands, stunned.

Well so much for that.

Ian took one look at what happened to Edgar and lost his nerve completely. The water pistol fell from his trembling hands and he did not bother to pick it up.

What was the point? They were all dead men.

"Man this was a bad idea." Alan swallowed as his eyes darted from Marko, to David and then to finally to Paul. He still had his knife but he doubted that it would have a sizeable effect on the four vampires.

"Shut up Alan." Edgar sniffed as he crept back when Paul inched forward.

"It's been nice knowing you guys."

"You too Ian."

Alan glanced at his brother as they pressed up against each other while the vampires moved in.

"Same here." Edgar held up his hand and locked it with Alan's.

"The meanest."

"The baddest."

"Are you three finished?" David cut them off.

God, what a bunch of spineless wimps. What the hell were they thinking? Had they honestly believed that they could just barge into the cave and kill them? At night? Honestly, how stupid were they? Well David did not bother to find out.

"Kill them."

" _AHHHHHHHHHH!_ _!"_

Edgar, Alan and Ian screamed in unison as the vampires attacked. Edgar and Alan hugged each other in a dead-man's grip while Ian hit the deck.

"I'm too young to die!"

"Ahhhh! Alan! Oh my god!"

Edgar yelled when Paul ripped him off his brother just as Marko grabbed Alan's legs and hauled him away kicking and screaming across the floor.

Ian went full-on jackrabbit mode and shot through Dwayne's legs just as the vampire snagged his jacket. Ian slipped out of the three-sizes too large jacket and took off running. Dwayne chased after him but the lanky teen was like smoke on the wind as he sprinted in circles around the fountain. He dodged and weaved this way and that in an attempt to avoid being caught. It actually worked for a bit but Dwayne quickly grew tired of the whole ring around the rosy routine.

Instead of running around the fountain once more Dwayne simply leapt over the busted chandelier and clotheslined Ian with a well-timed strike.

"Ah! Help!" Ian gurgled when Dwayne yanked him off his feet and dangled him in front of his face so that Ian could get a good look at how sharp his fangs were. Dwayne firmly believed that the more frightened they were before they died the better they tasted after the first bite.

"Tory! _Tory!_ " Ian thrashed in Dwayne's impossible grasp.

The vampire laughed before he went for Ian's throat.

 **BANG** **BANG!**

Two shots rang out in quick unison. The sound of them was deafening in the close confines of the cave.

Dwayne pitch forward onto Ian as blood blossomed from the holes in the back of his leather jacket. David snarled in disbelief as he turned toward the mouth of the cave.

Someone as going to pay in blood for that!

At the top of the precarious ramp, in plain view of everyone, stood Tory. Locked in her hands was a small silver and black revolver that eerily enough looked as if it were made for her.

"Let go of them. _Now_!"

Tory was all business. She aimed the handgun at Paul who was about to snap Edgar's neck.

"Tory look out!"

Ian cried out in warning as he wriggled out from under Dwayne and rolled away before the downed vampire came to his senses.

If Tory had been a second slower she would never have intercepted the black blur that spring-boarded off the wall and flew at her. Not taking a moment to think Tory just reacted.

Like metal drawn to a magnet the weapon in her hands took on a life of its own.

David's snarling visage filled her view. Tory dropped her left hand and her right arm flew upward in an arc that connected with David's face with as much force behind it as she could muster. The cold metal grip cracked painfully against David's lower jaw and that single action was enough to save Tory's life.

Had he been human being pistol-whipped in the mouth like that would have broken his jaw. Instead it just threw David off course and knocked tooth loose. Tory was thrown backward when David shot past and collided into the wall of the entrance tunnel. She managed to catch herself half-way as she tumbled down the rocky ramp. Her tailbone was bruised and her jeans had new tears in them but she was unharmed and more importantly she was still armed.

David winced as he gingerly probed the right side of his mouth with his tongue. Growling harshly he spat out a bloody molar as he picked himself up and glared down at the girl with the gun. Tory planted her feet while keeping the gun aimed at David, the two locking eyes while the frantic noises in the cave died down. It was difficult to tell who was angrier. Tory looked every bit as angry as David did but instead of baring fangs she wielded a firearm.

" _I mean it._ "

Tory did her best to make her voice sound as low and intimidating as possible. David pulled his lips back in a silent snarl to show that he did not buy it. With his mouth bloodied with his own blood he looked every inch the terrifying vampire he truly was. Tory swallowed hard but did not back down. She knew that if she doubted herself for even a second she Ian and the Frogs were done.

"What is up with kids these days and melodramatic entrances?" Marko snickered. He had Alan pinned face first on the ground with his arms twisted painfully behind his back. He could easily kill Alan and be done with it but the fact that David was at a stand-still with the girl caused both he and Paul to pause their would-be killing spree.

"Yeah? Well it's not as bad as your wannabe Wyld Stallyns schtick." Tory shot back. She did not dare take her eyes off David.

"Tory don't..." Edgar warned but Paul shut him up by stuffing his bandana into his mouth, hard enough that Edgar choked on it.

"Shut up Edgar. I'm saving your life here remember?" Tory snapped as she adjusted her stance on the precarious ramp when she felt herself slipping backwards thanks to the law of gravity.

"This is cute. It really is. But I've had enough of it." David horked up a wad of bloodied spit. He took a brazen step forward to test the waters and just as he predicted Tory fired off another shot. The bullet missed its mark as he jumped back up the ramp.

"That was my final warning. The next one goes between the eyes." Tory hissed as she raised her arms and sighted down the barrel, aiming right for David's head. Unless she was an expert marksman she would not be able to make a successful headshot but Tory's poker face was every bit as good as a professionals.

Tory was stalling for time. The longer she kept the vampire leader at bay the more time Ian and the Frogs had to hatch some sort of plan that would get them away from the vampires. Tory just hoped that they were actually trying to come up with something because she only had three bullets left. She was no sniper either. It was a doggone miracle that she had managed to put two rounds into the black haired vampire without hitting Ian by mistake.

"Bullets can't kill us." David sneered as he slowly moved to the left.

"Wanna bet?" Tory arched an eyebrow as she kept the gun trained on him, going left when he did.

While Paul watched the stalemate Marko's attention went over to Dwayne who lay sprawled out on the other side of the cave. Marko gave Dwayne a mental nudge but Dwayne did not respond.

That was a bad sign.

"David something's wrong with…"

"Shut up!" David shot Marko a warning look.

 _Don't reveal our names you idiot!_

 _But David, I think Dwayne's hurt_ _._

 _They're just bullets, he'll be fine._

 _I don't think so. I think he's hurt bad_ _. He_ _stopped moving_

 _She probably got him in the spine that's why. Don't do anything until I get rid of her understand?_

"David is it? Well David it looks like you guys aren't as indestructible was you think you are." It was Tory's turn to sneer. "Fascinating how effective a little water and a drunken priest can be."

David's face hardened into a cold brittle mask. This backwards game of cat and mouse just became deadly. Bullets hurt like hell and were a real nuisance but they posed no real threat to the undead. Blessed bullets on the other hand were no laughing matter. If one got in deep enough to do serious internal damage and was not removed in time, the poor sap who was unlucky enough to get shot would deteriorate from the inside out. That could take days or even weeks. It was a horrible way to go.

"Blessed bullets?" Alan muttered out-loud, his words muffled by the floor.

"Ieeenninoa."

Edgar tried to growl " _why didn't we think of that"_ around the wad of fabric in his mouth. Paul hissed and grabbed the back of Edgar's neck with his claws. The Frog instantly froze.

"Shut up." Paul drooled in his ear and Edgar did just that.

Ugh, death breath.

"Clever. Very clever. But that won't save your friends."

Unlike the moronic children that had wandered into his domain armed with squirt guns and sharpened chair legs this girl was proving to be a worthy advisory. David was going to have to tread carefully but he knew that he had the upper hand. All he had to do was get in her head and the best way to do that was make her feel small and vulnerable.

One girl, a cave full of male vampires, it was not that hard to do.

Pity David did not know about Tory's irritating habit of picking fights with people bigger than her because if he had he would have realized that the whole "alpha male" routine would never work on her.

"Yeah but it'll make me feel a whole lot better if I gave you a third eye. And as cliché as it sounds, I don't miss when it comes to nailing assholes. And you are an major asshole. Now let go of my friends."

Tory turned on her snarky devil-can-eat-shit-for-all-I-care attitude in order to hide what she was really feeling. She was going to die. She knew that. The outcome of her getting herself and her friends out of this alive mess was next to none. She knew that when she opened fire on the now motionless vampire. But there was no way in hell that she was going to let a prick like David see just how scared to death she really was. In Tory's mind David and his posse were just another bullying biker gang. If she kept thinking of them as that, she figured she would have what it took to face the end with dignity. Tory was no killer but like hell was she going to go out without taking one of these jerks with her.

David and Tory studied each other. When David started to slowly pick his way down the ramp Tory stepped forward to meet him. She refused to back down.

"Call off your goons. Do it now or I swear I'll kill you."

Tory kept the gun levelled with David's heart as she anchored her right foot on the steep incline and shifted her weight onto her left leg.

David stopped on command, a few feet from Tory. The two were close enough to touch each other but the tension between them palpable. It felt like there was a physical barrier placed between David's chest and the barrel of the revolver.

"You'd actually do it." David commented quietly so that only she could hear.

There was something in the way he looked at her over that made Tory's skin crawl.

"You're not as stupid as you look."

"Excuse me?"

The astonished look on David's face was priceless.

"You heard me right. A mullet? Really?"

Hiding behind the chandelier, Ian just shook his head ever so slightly as he listened to his best friend flat out insult a killer vampire. Typical Tory. Even in a stand-off to the death her mouth got the better of her.

David had to switch tactics because it was clear to him that his physical presence was not enough to break through her guard. It was time to fight dirty.

David's blue eyes slowly roved over Tory, eyeing every inch of her carefully. He let his eyes linger on her chest and when he cocked that pompous smirk Tory went red. There was nothing better to catch a girl off-guard then to make her feel exposed and needless to say it worked like a charm.

"Don't pull that crap on me. It won't work. I've been in and out of more foster homes than you can count and I've seen it all. You're no different than the others. Same type of ugly wrapped up in a different package, that's all." Tory growled savagely although the gun in her hands quivered a bit as she tried to stay calm despite the traitorous scarlet blush.

David's smirk melted into a victorious sneer as Tory suddenly seemed unsure of herself. He stepped forward and into the gun and as he did so, Tory quickly took a step back to keep some distance between them. She slipped slightly and David leered as she lowered her arms in order to keep herself steady.

"And you all fall the same way."

Tory kept the gun low and moved quickly. She stopped only when the barrel of the handgun was pressed firmly up against David's groin. If David were to try anything now he'd get his jewels blown off and there would be no getting them back. Ever.

"Who's smiling now?" Tory hissed as she stared up at him while pressing the gun harder against him, making sure he got the message.

Oh he got it all right. Loud and clear.

"Back off boys."

David's fumed with utter hate at the undignified coupe. This did not happen. Not like this.

Marko and Paul didn't know what to do. Should they kill the Frogs and go help David? Or should they go help David and then kill the Frogs? Either way they were not going to do anything unless someone died. They would not admit defeat in their own domain, especially if the victor was a girl.

"I can't believe this is happening." David muttered to himself as Tory moved closer, the gun barrel an uncomfortable presence between them.

"Oh you better believe it and don't you _ever_ try to kill my friends again. Got that?" Tory whispered as they stood face to face. She turned the gun ever so slightly and David stiffened. "Call them off. Right now."

 _What do you want us to do?_

From where Marko was positioned he could tell that David looked highly uncomfortable and Tory was too close to him to still be alive.

"Let the brats go."

Marko motioned to Paul to stand down with a shrug of his shoulders. This was probably all part of some master plan David had. Lull the girl into a false sense of security and then rip her head off when her guard was down, that sort of thing.

"You're lucky." Marko growled at Alan before he gave him a kick to the side and let him go.

Ian carefully rose to his feet and edged toward Edgar as Paul glared at them before he became distracted by a swarm of psychedelic moths that hovered around the closest fire barrel.

They would have been fools to think that the situation under control. Any minutes the vampires would easily pick them off. Tory could only hold the ace for so long so they had to beat as hasty retreat and fast.

"Ian that girl has some serious balls." Edgar quickly tied his bandana around his head with shaking hands and hurried over to where all of his anti-vampire equipment lay.

"Yeah, I've got to make up for what you three lack." Tory answered as she stayed where she was. She did not trust David any more than he trusted her. "Get your shit and get out of here."

"But what about Sarah?" Ian asked as he snatched the green water pistol off the ground and hugged it to his chest like some sort of security blanket.

"Screw it. She's not here. They must have finished her off." Alan eyed Dwayne's limp figure with interest. It would be so easy to stake the guy. Just one kill and he would die happy.

"Don't even think about it." Marko snarled as he planted himself between the Frog brother and his pack mate. Alan backed off under that deadly glare and scurried to his brother's side at the base of the ramp.

While the wannabe vampire killers regrouped David had a burst of inspiration. He suddenly knew what to do.

Oh it was perfect.

It would be challenging and most of it relied on luck but if he managed to pull it off David could easily slaughter more than a few birds with one well-aimed stone. It was time for him to play the devil's advocate.

"You're looking for Sarah? Why?"

"She's our friend that's why. Who were the guys who took her last night from that high-class house near the waterfront? Don't bother lying because we know you were a part of it." Tory said as she motioned for the Frogs to get up the ramp and out of the cave while she still had some control over the vampires. She could feel the clock running down and it started to make her edgy.

David inhaled sharply when Tory fidgeted.

"I can tell you who they are."

"But?" Tory asked.

"Why don't we strike a deal?" He offered as he eyed the Frog brothers.

"And why would we want to do that?" Tory was naturally suspicious. Strike a deal with killers? Yeah, when doves cry.

"Because," David turned his attention back on her, "I need your help."

"What?"

Edgar, Alan, and Ian all looked at the vampire as if he had just lost his mind.

"Heh, pretty." Paul tracked a moth as it fluttered past his head.

"We have a score to settle with the guy who took your friend and you want your friend back. Don't worry. She's not dead. I don't need to spell the rest out for you."

It was impossible to tell if David was bluffing or actually telling the truth.

"And how do I know if this isn't just a bunch of bullshit to get me to lower the gun?"

Tory did not believe David.

"You don't. Despite the fact that I would love nothing more than to kill you right here and now, that really isn't an option for me. So why not look at the bigger picture? You'll never be able to find your friend without our help and we could use the extra numbers, especially after that little stunt you pulled on us." He said as he nodded over to where Dwayne lay.

"So you know where she is?" Ian carefully climbed up the ramp.

"No I don't."

It was true, none of them had any idea where Lincoln was. What he he did know was that wherever the vampire was lurking Sarah would be with him.

"Well then a fat lot of good that does us us. Is there any other useless information you could give us?"

"Actually there is." David scratched his chin as he kept an eye on Marko. "We know that they are somewhere between San Francisco and Los Angeles."

"Oh wow. That just narrows it down a whole lot now doesn't it? All that means is that they're still in the state which if you forgotten is one big-ass state. You know what, screw this. I'll just shoot you now. Then you can do whatever the hell you want."

Marko tensed, ready to spring to David's defence. Funny enough it was Ian prevented Tory from castrating David and getting them all killed.

"They won't be near San Francisco." Ian spoke up as he carefully moved closer to Tory so that he could get a better look at David.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because if you ever bother to listen to me when I tell you something you'd have known that Sarah comes from San Francisco." Ian stated sarcastically.

"How do you know that?" Edgar asked as he finished strapping on his reinforced vest. He kept one hand on his stakes while the other held this water gun, armed and ready this time.

"Because it says so in the article."

Ian dug into his jean pocket and took out the now crumpled piece of newspaper. He smoothed it out the best he could and fearfully held it out to David. David carefully took the article as Tory watched the exchange with eagle eyes. He noted with some satisfaction that Ian shrunk away from his presence.

"Whoever has her would have to be a complete moron to go anywhere near San Francisco with her. Her uncle's some sort of high ranking priest or something so everyone's been looking for her for over a month. Which means that most people in that area would probably recognize her face."

"So she could be anywhere between here and L.A." Edgar noted as he carefully mulled over the facts. "That still doesn't help us much because they could be anywhere and it's not like we can go through every town. That would take months and we'd don't have months. We don't even have days. It's not like we can fly at superhuman speed or something Ian."

"We could."

David scanned over the article, taking a particular interest in Sarah's religious uncle. He wondered if Max knew about the connection when he abducted her all those weeks ago. He probably did but that led to the complicated question of why he would dare risk stirring up the Roman Catholics.

The church knew all too well that they existed. If Sarah's holier-than-thou uncle had so much as a sneaking suspicion as to what was behind his niece's abduction, the man would have every crusading vampire hunter and Pope commando combing the state from them.

"It would still be difficult to find them. They could have gone anywhere."

"What about Route One?" Alan blurted out when he remembered what Crooked Jack had told them earlier that day. "Crooked Jack said that the Chevelle was on the highway going toward Los Angeles last night. That means the guy who took Sarah is probably taking the coastal highway south. There are plenty of places to lie low in that won't have too many people around. Vampire like seclusion."

"You finally got something right. Good for you." Paul jeered at the younger Frog brother before he freaked the kid out further by biting into the plump form of one of the pigeons Marko kept. Alan gagged when Paul spat out the bird's withered heart and tore the poor thing to pieces.

 _Lincoln would stay away from populated areas, least he draws attention away from Santa Carla. Quit eating my birds Paul! One's enough!_

 _But dude I'm hungry!_

 _Deal with it. There are three happy meals here waiting to be bled. Patience man._

 _Shut up you two! I need to think._

David stared at the black and white picture of Sarah.

"If I know Lincoln he'll stick to remote areas to hunt. So he'll either be on the coast or empty stretches of road. He always liked to play with his food and the best place to do it would be out in the middle of nowhere. No traffic. No witnesses."

Ian shuddered at the thought of being killed by a vampire along an empty side road. He did not want to think about what the vampires around him did for fun. That poor pigeon.

"So now what?" David asked as he folded the scrap of newspaper and put it in his coat pocket. He took care not to make any sudden movements. "Do we have a deal? You help us settle a score and we help you get your friend back?"

It was plain to see that the Frogs would rather chew their own arms off than strike a deal with the bloodsuckers but Ian was not so opposed to it. If they made the deal then the vampires would not kill them right away. That would give them some time to think of a new plan to save their skins.

Ian was no fool. He knew that if they ran out of the cave without finishing the vampires off, it would only be a matter of days before the vampires picked them off one by one. These guys were ruthless killers and the Frog Brothers sad attempt at eradicating evil had clearly pissed them off big time. Also they would be able to get Sarah back as well and if she turned out to be as dentally enhanced as David and the others were…well they would cross that bridge if they came to it.

Tory glanced over her shoulder to see what the others though of David's scheme. When she looked at the Frogs, they simultaneously shook their heads. No.

Ian gave Tory a pleading look as he nodded his head. Yes.

It was down to her to make the final decision. If she did not decide right, none of them would leave the cave alive.

"I say…deal. But if you even think of going back on your word or try to kill us in any way, I'll rip your balls off and make you eat them."

David knew she meant every word. He clenched his right hand into a tight fist, tight enough to drive his nails through the skin and draw blood.

"Understood." He said as he relaxed his fingers and held out his hand to her.

Tory lowered the gun away from David without engaging the safety and shook his hand.

"Ow!"

Tory quickly yanked her hand back when she accidentally scratched the back of her hand on David's sharp claws. The scratches were not deep but there was enough blood on her hand to make Ian wince at the sight of it. A bloodied hand in a cave full of vampires. That was not a good thing.

"Sorry." David did not sound all too apologetic as he eyed at his hand, his nails in particular. There was blood under the cuticles but not all of it was Tory's.

Before the Frogs could catch wind of what was going on, David yanked his leather gloves out of his pocket and put them on in order to mask his hands from view.

"Here." Ian took out a ratty bandana from his back pocket and wrapped it around Tory's hand before David got any ideas. He glared at David as if he somehow suspected foul play on the vampire's part.

"I think this concludes things. The Boardwalk. Tomorrow at sundown. Be there. Bring holy water. As much of it as you can carry. Now if you'll excuse me." David shouldered past Ian as he picked his way down the ramp. The Frogs quickly moved out of his way as he went over to where Dwayne and the others were lurking.

"What the hell are you thinking? Making a deal with a vampire? Are you insane? Why didn't you just shoot the guy when you had the chance?" Alan asked before Edgar nudged him in the ribs and motioned him to keep his voice down.

Tory remembered that she had to put the safety back on and did just that. She carefully tucked the small revolver into the waistband of her jeans and hid it from view with her jacket.

"Why? Because if I did the others would have killed you! I've just bought you time to figure out a way how to end these guys for good. Understand?"

Tory had made it clear to them what their objective was. After their first botched attempt, they were ready for it. It was time to prove that the Frog Brothers truly were Awesome Monster Bashers.

The group did not stick around to see what would happen next just in case anyone decided to change their mind. They hustled their way through the long narrow tunnel that led back to the stairway with Tory in the lead and Edgar at the rear, armed and nervous.

"Is that why you took off today?"

After witnessing her daring and utterly insane face-off with David Ian knew that she would have used the weapon. Tory had made it clear that she would have killed to save his life and that fact made Ian's head spin.

"I told you I had something to take care of and I knew that you'd have tried to stop me if I told you what I was doing. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Anything else? Jesus Tory, that's a real weapon! You could kill someone with that thing. Is it even legal? Does it belong to Brooke? You have to get rid of it. This is serious Tory. Guns kill people!"

"Yeah and so do vampires."

"Shut up Alan! That's not the point. This is serious you guys. Think about it for a second. Vampires are monsters but a weapon like this, one that you're not supposed to have, that'll make you one too. Get rid of it Tory. You don't need it. This isn't how we fight these guys."

"Ian, this gun? It just saved your life. Think about that before you slam me with the anti-gun rally cry."

"But Tory this isn't you!"

Tory withdrew a small flashlight that Edgar had given her back at the comic shop and flicked it on. She swept the narrow beam of light in front of her so that she could see where to step. It was totally gross in here. There were bird skeletons all over the place. These vampires were total pigs.

"No it's not Ian. And those guys back there are not people. They're monsters. Real people-eating monsters. Five minutes ago one was about to tear your throat out and I stopped him. You would be dead right now if I hadn't done what I needed to do. So think long and hard about that because we are done talking about this. The gun stays as long as those vampires want us dead. When this is over you can throw the stupid thing into the ocean. If we survive. Understood?"

Ian did not know what to say to that.

"How did you get it?" Edgar asked out of curiosity. He eyed Tory with a newfound respect. To him there was nothing more impressive than guns and chicks who knew how to use them.

"Never mind how I got it. Did you honestly think that I would take on vampires armed with a squirt gun or a piece of wood?" Tory tucked her hair behind her ear with a mischievous grin. It felt good to be admired a bit.

"But how'd you get the bullets blessed?"

Alan could not quite figure out how she had managed that one. Usually the local priests were not on board with blessing vampire killing equipment. He knew that from experience.

"Easy. There's a drunk of a priest that lives in my complex. All I did was wrap them in tissue paper, swiped a bottle of ten dollar booze and paid him off. I told him it was a rosary that I was giving to a sick friend. Don't think he believed me but then again all he believes in is sacramental wine." Tory tapped the side of her nose slyly.

They had Tory's quick thinking and the vices of Father Maguire to thank for being able to draw breath. There was no way that Tory was going to let them forget it.

"Smart."

Edgar was impressed. Maybe she was more than just a thorn in his side after all? The only other woman that had ever left a lasting impression on him was Wonder Woman and she was a comic book heroine. Tory was the real deal.

"Why Edgar, that's the second compliment you've given me in the past ten minutes. I think hell just froze over." Tory mock-shivered and Edgar stuttered.

"Uh yeah…sure."

While the four made their way to freedom, the vampires held their own council. David had to use every ounce of self control not to turn around and beat the snot out of Tory for what she did to Dwayne.

"Is he going to be all right?"

"We'll see. Marko, I'm going to need take-out."

Paul was busy racking things that only existed in his mind.

"What kind?" Marko inquired.

"Italian. And a lot of it."

Of course. Marko knew that Dwayne often preferred European over American and Italian was a favourite of his.

"Appetizer or entree?" Marko asked as he rose to his feet.

"Both. And get something that'll bring Paul back down to earth. Blonde usually does it."

"Sure thing."

Marko took off with a running start. Outside the cave the teens threw themselves down onto the weatherbeaten wooden platform when he soared out from the cave and swooped over their heads. But before the Frogs could get into position, Marko was long gone.

"Paul."

"Yeah?"

"Drop it."

The feathered corndog in Paul's hands flew to safety before he could snag a bite.

"What's the point of keeping snacks around if I can't eat any?"

The small flock of homing pigeons had taken to the safety of the fissures that criss-crossed the walls near the ceiling of the cave. They cooed in agitation as Paul eyed them hungrily from where he stood.

"They're for emergencies only Paul. You having the munchies isn't one. Come here and do something useful."

"Ugh, fine. When do you wanna take them out?" Paul winced at the sight of Dwayne's mutilated backside.

"A few days." David replied as he pried his gloves off with his teeth. He carefully felt around each wound in order to find the exact location of each bullet.

He had been right about where the bullets had struck the downed vampire. The first shot had grazed his side and left an ugly looking burn mark that was not life threatening. It was the other bullet that was worrisome. It had tagged him dead centre in the middle of his back, right along the spine. Dwayne's lack of movement was attributed to the fact that had he been conscious he would not have been able to feel the lower half of his body.

"Damn. She did a number on him."

For once Paul was happy that he was higher than Major Tom. What had to come next was going to suck majorly.

"She's going to pay dearly for this. We sort this mess out first and then she's mine."

If everything went according to his plan there would be no way Max could go through his with numerous death threats and there would be four more Missing Persons flyers added to poster boards of Santa Carla.

They were both thankful that Dwayne was out cold as David took a switchblade to the blackened bullet hole. David had no choice but to carve out the ruined skin and muscle tissue in order to prevent the infected area from spreading any further. The bullet took some time to remove as it was lodged right next to a chipped vertebrae. It was a small miracle that nothing had been shattered beyond repair.

"God I friggin' hate kids these days." Paul mumbled as he carefully wrapped the cursed bullet in one of Dwayne's oil-drenched rags. "We were never this stupid when we were that age."

David wisely chose not to respond as he slashed open his wrist and filled the grisly hole in Dwayne's lower back with his blood. He already had one damaged vampire to deal with. He did not need to add Paul's shattered ego to the list.


	20. Don't Be Afraid Of The Dark

With dawn fast approaching Lincoln needs to make a decision. The Big Brother shtick is growing on him but how far is he willing to take it? How deep down the rabbit hole will he let Sarah go before she discovers that some holes don't lead to Wonderland but into hell itself?

Chapter Theme Song: "Don't Be Afraid of the Dark" by Y&T

* * *

" _Touch by touch - little by little_

 _I'll unchain your heart_

 _Don't be afraid of the dark_

 _Take my hand - little by little_

 _We'll break down these walls_

 _Don't be afraid of the dark..."_

Across the vast night sky stars twinkled and glittered like a hundred thousand tiny diamond fragments. The tell-tale power chords of the Y&T hair ballad drifted out of the Chevelle's car radio as neighbouring crickets accompanied the lead guitarist with their own leggy solos. It was a perfect moment caught up in a perfect minute.

"Lincoln, do you believe that there's such a thing as heaven?"

Lincoln did not respond to the question right away. Instead he took a long drag on the stub of his Cuban cigar and kept his eyes trained on the fading star scape overhead. The Cohiba was his favourite pick for the last inhale of the evening. They always carried that faint genuine smell of hot sun and the sweat of a gorgeous dark-eyed woman.

"I guess." He exhaled a string of smoke rings, each one smaller than the last.

"Really?"

Sarah turned her head to the side so that she could study his profile. She had not expected that answer, not from him.

"Think I'm joshin' don't ya? Well, maybe I am. Maybe I'm not."

A coy smile appeared as he chomped on the spit-soaked end of his cigar and tucked his hands behind his head.

"C'mon don't be like that. Do you honestly think so? That there's something more out there? Bigger than all this?"

Lincoln knew that the girl had been dying to pester him with questions ever since the sun had gone south for the day. There had not been enough time to get an word in edgewise between getting things sorted with the Boss and hauling the kid out for another round of bloody tag for the second evening in a row.

Mergers were a damn tricky business. Things never went down quite as smoothly as they did in the fine print. The old Master had to head north to Frisco tonight to tie up some final loose ends that required an expert touch that only he could provide. That meant that the old bandit would have to spend the next day hunkered down in some over-priced penthouse. Alone.

Lincoln was none pleased about that.

Going on two nights side-lined with nanny duty when protocol demanded that he be front and centre where all the action was made him twitchy. He should always be one step behind the Master Vampire like a flea on a mangy dog's ass. A second set of eyes were needed when dealing with those upstate powder puffs who thought they were Regan's gift to the western trade settlements. Big city vampires had all manner of big cooperate ideals. They did not like being told what to do. Especially on their own turf.

It was dangerous and Lincoln smelt a red herring.

But he had been given his marching orders. There was no sense in arguing with the old bleeder once his mind was made up. Lincoln had managed a single syllable before the authority gavel was brought down hard on his head.

Lincoln had done good so far with the kid and the Boss was impressed. Now he had to expand his teachings. It was time to broaden the horizons and take things to the next level. Tonight's target had been a sensible family style hatchback with a nice unsuspecting couple inside. A decent enough challenge for a beginner with quite the grand prize.

Sarah had to learn how to take the hands-on approach on how to stop a car in motion. There was a right way and a wrong way to being hit by a moving vehicle. The kid picked up quick on which was which. A busted windshield and utter panic had worked in her favour. The thirty-something American dreamers had gone down easy. By the time the local authorities got the call John and Jane Doe would be nothing more than a pile of ashy crisps. No tell-tale tooth fillings for the dental records. No forms of identification. Just a burnt-out shell of a mystery that would leave the authorities holding their dicks in confusion.

And that was only Day Two.

"Shoo kid. If you wanna go all deep then write a friggin' poem. Here I'll start. There once was a man from Nantucket who had a cock so long he could…"

"Ugh Lincoln! You are so gross."

That made Lincoln laugh.

"Can you be serious for like five seconds? Do you?"

Having lived in San Francisco all of her life the chance to appreciate the beauty of the night far from the city's light pollution had been a rare experience. Now Sarah found herself surrounded by stars and silence while lying next to Lincoln on the hood of his precious car along an empty dirt road.

She had never realized how odd having an older brother could be. It took some getting used to.

"What d'you think?" Lincoln nudged her with his elbow.

"I never figured you to be the spiritual type." Sarah sat up and rested her back against the windshield so that she could get a better look at him.

"That's 'cause I ain't." Lincoln yawned and stretched lazily.

"But you said..."

"Just 'cause I said that I think there's somethin' bigger out there don't mean I go all knees to Jesus kid. You gotta stop thinkin' in extremes and start thinkin' outside the lines. You asked if I believe in a hereafter and I said yeah but that don't mean what you think it does."

"Oh really?"

"Yep." Lincoln snickered when she playfully pushed his shoulder with the heel of her boot. "Lemme tell you a little somethin' about the great beyond. Don't you go rollin' your eyes at me now missy."

Lincoln was careful to keep the smouldering end of his cigar away from the polished hood of the Chevelle as he rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow.

"I've been there."

"Yeah right."

Lincoln arched his scarred eyebrow.

"Are you shitting me?"

"Does it look like I am?"

Sarah stared at him dumbfounded. He could be leading her on to get a rise from her. He probably was. But there was something about the way he had said it that sounded sincere though.

"You don't believe me."

"Well can you blame me? You don't exactly walk on water."

"That I don't and am damn proud of it. But it's true. Every word."

"You're telling me that when you died you actually went to the big hereafter? I find that a little hard to believe. I died too remember? I didn't see any bright lights or pearly gates. There was nothing. One minute I'm human and then the next, I'm this. God, braces were such a waste of time."

Sarah brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself.

"That's cause you went out the easy way. Wasn't exactly taking the dirt nap now." Lincoln took a long final drag on the cigar before he extinguished the ember and sat up.

"The easy way?" Sarah shot him a guarded look. "There was nothing easy about what I went through."

"Now don't get all defensive, I'm just sayin' that in our world goin' the half vamp route is what we call the easy way. It's a kicker but trust me when I say it's a cake walk compared to what some of us go through. There's more than one way to make a vampire and none of them are pretty."

Lincoln scratched his stubbled chin as his gaze instinctively drifted toward the horizon. The sun was going to rise soon enough. They had to be heading back to the safe house so that he could make the call to check in with the Boss and give him a complete rundown. He better wrap this up quick.

"You mean Max didn't trick you into drinking his blood?"

Come again?

"Is that what you think happened?"

"David said that it was the method he preferred and I thought that…maybe he pulled the same stunt on you. But you don't really seem the type."

"The type?"

Lincoln was all raised eyebrows and incredulous looks.

"You're a whiskey guy, not someone who collects fine wines."

Lincoln had to laugh at that. She was right on the money with that one.

"So is that how he managed it? A bottle of wine? Lemme guess, merlot in the family library at some fancy party and he just happened to take an interest in you."

"Am I that predictable?"

"He is. The old lecher."

A small shudder ran through Sarah as she hugged her legs and curled into a protective ball. She never had the chance to talk about the night she had met Max. She did not want to revisit what had happened but the words found an escape route. Once out there was not stopping them.

"You're right though. It was at a party. My parents love nothing better than to mingle with the up town people, the ones with all the connections. Max had shown up claiming to be a silent partner in some sort of money-making construction firm that built condos or something. He just fit right in. Said all the right things and knew the right people. All that stuff. Everyone accepted him. In fact my parents were thrilled."

Sarah hated those stupid parties. But since she was expected to be the proper daughter she was always there, trying her best to be charming and polite to people she did not know and most of the time could not stand. Especially the older men. Ugh, they were the worst.

"Max was different though. He took an interest in me while everyone else just ignores you if you are not old enough to vote. He took the time to talk to me. Asked questions about school and what my plans for the future were. He listened. I don't remember how long it went on for but when he offered me a glass of red wine I didn't think twice. Hey, he thought that I was mature for my age. That made him cool in my books. How could I have been so stupid!"

"You think I would've fallen for that act?" Lincoln snorted and Sarah looked away embarrassed. "Aw c'mon, I didn't mean it like that. He got one over you because you were too trustin'. You don't have that cautious edge, the one that comes from fighting to survive. Not your fault kid."

"Whatever." Sarah kept her eyes on anything but Lincoln.

Lincoln ran his tongue over his teeth as he wondered how he could fix this. He sat up and peeled off his leather biker jacket when inspiration struck.

"Here, look."

He tossed the heavy jacket at Sarah to get her attention. She grumbled under her breath when the jacket hit her head on.

"What?" She huffed and tossed it back. "What am I looking at?"

Lincoln smirked as he caught his jacket and laid it out on the windshield. He grabbed the neck of the black t-shirt he wore and yanked it over his head as Sarah watched in confusion.

Umm, what was going on?

"If you expect me to be impressed by chest hair that is so not happening."

In truth Sarah had to admit that for a guy who has been dead for over twenty years Lincoln was in pretty decent shape. But then again he would have been before he turned. He certainly had been no stranger to physical labor when he was alive. Shoulders like that did not happen by pumping iron at a gym. Sarah would bite her tongue before she ever said that out loud though. There was no need to feed his already self-assured ego, even if he did have an impressive torso. The manscaping though was very Sixties chic. What a hippie.

"In your dreams kid. You're not my type."

Lincoln could not resist to show off just a tad however.

"Okay Stallone, you were saying?" Sarah reached over and poked his flexed bicep as hard as she could but her finger did not leave so much as an imprint on his skin.

"This." Lincoln tilted his head to the left and brushed his hair back. It had only been a few days since he had given himself a complete make-over but even so his hair had grown back to its usual shoulder length along with the scruff and sideburns that went along with the ensemble.

Sarah leaned in to make out what Lincoln motioned at. She was not sure what she was supposed to see until Lincoln turned sideways. She hissed in surprise at the silvery road-map of scars that crisscrossed the right side of his neck and across both shoulders.

"This is what we call the hard way. Ain't pretty and it won't ever go away." Lincoln pointed out as Sarah lightly traced some of the deeper set scars with the tips of her fingers.

"He did this to you? Why?"

There was that scared tone again, the one that Lincoln recognized as her instinctual fear of Max. She only ever sounded that way whenever that home-wrecker was somehow involved.

"Cause I fought back. Old Max hates it when he has to work at gettin' what he wants. I didn't roll over and submit so he made sure I did."

Lincoln's words were hard as he allowed Sarah to explore the rest of the scars that ran down his back where Max's claws had torn into him all those years ago.

"He tortured you." Sarah swallowed hard as she stared at Lincoln with what could only be pity in her eyes.

Lincoln despised being pitied.

"Yeah he did. It was outright murder. And I should have stayed dead." The words came out sharper than he intended as he grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

"But you didn't."

"No I did not."

The crickets continued to string along their pre-dawn symphonic lineup as an awkward silence settled between the two vampires. A familiar voice crackled through the FM radio station not a moment too soon.

" _The night is long but dawn isn't that far off folks. Don't worry, DJ_ _J. P. Jones_ _here has the tunes you need to cure those early morning blues. From up and down the coast on the hour every hour I got that shout-out that's dedicated to everyone who stands for Truth, Justice and the American way! The freedom fighters down in Santa Carla California wanna remind whoever's listening that it's always the darkest before the dawn, you gotta fight for your right to party, and now is a good time to get a little help from your friends. Whatever that means._

 _Anyways listeners, here's the one and only_ Led Zeppelin _playin' that unforgettable hit that we all know and love for the seventh time tonight_ _._ _Let's be honest here, I'm getting sick of hearing it myself and I'm pretty sure I'm going to get hit with a lawsuit by breakfast_ _._ _Ah well, you request it I play it! This is your host with the most DJ_ _J. P. Jones sayin'_ _once more, "When all are one and one is all, to be a rock and not to roll, and she's buying_ the Stairway to Heaven."

Lincoln picked up his leather jacket and shrugged it back on as the legendary Jimmy Page opened up the iconic Zeppelin song with gentle fingering of the strings. Only Zeppelin could ever pull off flutes on a heavy metal album.

"It was nice being dead. Nothin' to worry about, nothin' to hurt you. There was a comfort in it. It felt good. Hell, I was no loss to the world when I bought the farm but I wasn't what I became later. I was never this bad before. I guess that's why I went where I went. Dunno what it was. Could have been the Big House or it could have been Disneyland but whatever it was, it felt like a good place to be y'know?"

Sarah nodded slowly. She wanted to believe that what he said was true.

"Then it was gone. There was only the hurt left. Pain like you've never felt. I went from heaven to hell in a heartbeat and I guess that's what broke me. It's risky gettin' bit like I was. Just 'cause a vamp sinks his teeth into you don't mean you're gonna survive it. Not all of me made it."

Lincoln flexed his fingers as he rode the urge to wrap them around Max's neck and throttle the life out of him.

"That's what makes us change Sarah. They kill you and then drag you back but you're different. There are pieces missin' on the inside, the stuff that used to keep everything together. Those gaps eat away at you 'till there's nothin' left but the bad and the pain. That's when it gets ugly. You understand what I'm sayin'?"

"So that's why you hate Max so much." Sarah murmured as she realized the truth behind Lincoln's undeniable hate. "He destroyed you."

Lincoln just nodded and rubbed the back of his neck where he could still feel the ghost of Max's stranglehold after all that time.

"You could say that again. I went bad after that. Real bad. David, he turned cynical but me? I went from troubled-in-the-head to damn well rabid."

"But how did you do it?"

"Hmm?"

"How did you get away?"

Lincoln frowned.

"Get away?"

Sarah tugged the end of her ponytail and started to twirl strands of her hair into small knots. That was another one of her tells that Lincoln had been quick to pick up on. She was pondering something but did not know how to go about saying it.

"From Max. If you were as bad as you say you were then why didn't Max just kill you? I know he threatens David and the others with the Death of a Thousand Screams or something like that if they ever cross him in any way. How did you manage to escape him?"

Lincoln thought the question over before he gave his answer.

"You know, I don't really know why old Max just didn't end me. I was a mistake. Couldn't be controlled. It was only a matter of time. Thing is I didn't care about dying. I still don't. I became a threat to his perfect little image so I figured well fuck it. If he's gonna off me then I might as well take the bastard down with me. He deserves it, the fucker."

"So you wanted to expose him at the train yard? I overheard David telling Marko about it..." Sarah's voice trailed off as an image of Max from that night at his estate began to surface in the back of her mind.

"It was beautiful kid. Freakin' magical. You should have seen it. There was so much carnage it would have made Leatherface cry. There was no way Max could have covered it up. No way. It was the perfect "fuck you". Well it would've been if David hadn't decided to screw things over."

"David?"

"Did you know the moron tried to stop me? As if he ever could."

The dark edge in Lincoln's laugh sent chills down Sarah's spine. Lincoln's unnerving jackal smile made an unexpected appearance as the tips of his canine teeth slowly lengthened on their own accord. It was the memory. A potent drug that began to seep through his mind and snaked its way into this reality. Lincoln slid his fingers across his throat and Sarah watched in fascination as thin red lines appeared where his nails met skin. He could smell the metallic coppery tang of that rich fresh gore that he had painted the town red with.

"Did you know that if one of us ever gets exposed, them that's with him also get found out? That's a one-way ticket to death row that no one can overrule. Them's the rules."

It was that mad cackle that brought the shivers that made Sarah squirm where she sat. The slices on his throat were shallow and had begun to bead over but the blood was not yet thick enough to spill from the torn skin. Lincoln was no idea that he had accidentally cut himself.

"Did David stop you?" She tried to get Lincoln back on track before he spiralled out to a place where she could not reach him.

"He sure tried. I'll give him that much. He kept me busy until Max got there."

"And then? What happened Lincoln? What did Max do?"

"You wanna know what he did?"

"I want to know."

Lincoln shifted across the hood until they were level with each other. Eye to eye with hardly any space between them. Lincoln stared without seeing but he inhaled deeply until the scent of blood was just a memory once again. Sarah remained motionless as she witnessed the subtle shift in Lincoln's sanity. The mad gleam faded from his eyes as his pupils dilated back to their usual size. With the return of awareness came an understanding that tripped an emotional wire. Sarah had seen something that Lincoln had not wanted her to see.

"Now, that's funny. Every time I say his name you cringe like a whipped dog so why the hell should I tell you anything? Think I'm that stupid? Last thing I need is for you gettin' nightmares. Hell, the Boss'll just love that."

"Nightmares?"

Sarah's eyes flashed amber. Before she even realized what she was doing she had Lincoln by the collar of his leather jacket and had shoved her face into his.

"You want to talk about nightmares? I'm living one! I know I'm some small-time newbie vampire but I have been through hell and back. So if you think I'm going to go off and hide in a corner over some freaking sob story you got another thing coming. I want you to tell me exactly what happened because I want to know what he is capable of first-hand. I want to know how he works!"

If Lincoln was offended by her sudden outburst he did not show it. Instead he studied her closely and he was impressed with what he saw.

"Why?"

"You are not the only one who wants him dead Lincoln. He may not have ripped my throat out but he ruined my life and I am not going to forget that."

Sarah growled as they stared each other down. There, Lincoln knew the truth. Sarah wanted revenge and she would do whatever it took to get it.

"You honestly think you got a chance against him? Kid you're insane."

He had been waiting for another chance at Max for over two decades. There was no way that Sarah could ever pull off something like that by herself. He knew exactly how she felt but the kid was never going to be able to nix Max. Not in this lifetime.

"I know I don't. But we might." Sarah released her hold on his collar and sat back against the windshield.

Sarah was not stupid. If she had Lincoln on her side then something could be done. After all, Lincoln hated Max even more than she did and she knew that Lincoln would like nothing better than to get a decent chance at finishing Max for good. How many times had he said just that over the course of the last hour alone? If they worked together who says that it could not happen?

"You're serious."

That was not a question. It was a statement.

"Never been more serious in my life."

Lincoln eyed her and realized that she had more of himself in her than he realized. Hell, she really did seem to take after him and that was something that could go both ways.

"It ain't pretty."

Lincoln's warning was as serious as the grave as he carefully scanned the empty landscape around them to make sure that there was no one lurking under a shrub or in a shadow. One could never be too careful along the highway. The area was clear but the clock was ticking. He had to make this fast or else there would be more than a missed phone call to deal with. One memory, that's all she would get. He could handle a quick peek into the rat maze that was his head.

"It never is."

Sarah swallowed hard and tried to get a handle on her jittery nerves. This was her chance. She was finally going to see Max at his worst first-hand. She hoped to figure out a weakness or advantage. Anything that could help them both in the long run.

"Fine. But I warned you." Lincoln gave her a pointed look. Once he started there would be no turning back.

"I'm a big girl Lincoln, I can handle it." A moment of doubt flashed across Sarah's mind but she quickly kicked it out of her head before it had time to settle. If she chickened out now then she would loose her only opportunity to see and study Max for what he really was.

"We'll see about that." Lincoln's expression was grim as he carefully swung his legs onto the hood of the car and motioned Sarah to move in close. Careful as always, Sarah scooted forward so that she and Lincoln were practically on top of each other. She did not know what he was going to do but she was determined to see this through.

"Put your hands on my shoulders." Sarah did as he told her and placed her hands on his broad shoulders while he gently laced his fingers on either side of her face.

"Now close your eyes."

Sarah wanted to ask why but decided otherwise and did as she was told. She was not sure how this was going to work but she trusted that Lincoln would remain true to his word.


	21. Welcome To My Nightmare

Chapter Song Selection: "Welcome To My Nightmare" by Alice Cooper

* * *

Sarah's eyes flew open.

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god!

She planted her hands against Lincoln's chest and shoved him away from her as hard as she could. They both hit the dirt just as the blood came pouring out of her in a thick red stream. She choked back the gore as her mind tried to purge what it had just experienced. But it was no use. It was there now. The memories. Stuck inside her head for good.

This was a mistake.

"That was David's reaction too. I could never forget that part." Lincoln's voice rattled like an old tin can as he braced himself against the front tire of the Chevelle.

"Impossible."

Sarah wheezed before another wave of nausea gripped her. Partially digested blood soaked the dry ground around before she struggled to her feet, half-covered in her own crimson vomit.

"What-what was that?"

"I warned you."

Sarah just stared down at Lincoln in horror.

"He took you apart! Lincoln, he-."

It had gone beyond a savage beat down. Beyond anything she could fathom on her own. Drawn and quartered with a railroad spike. Flayed alive while suspended by what was left. Just thinking of it made Sarah heave again.

What Lincoln had done with the bodies of fifteen Santa Carla residents had been an atrocity. Unforgivable. Max had returned the gesture. Only he had wiped the floor with Lincoln before he disemboweled and hung him by his own entrails so that he had easy access to destroy every nerve ending with a discarded metal pipe.

Sarah pulled herself out of the memory before she could witness what came after. She never wanted witness something like that ever again.

"Seen enough? Cause there's a lot more."

Sarah shook her head vehemently.

"No. No more. Please. I don't want to know."

"So, you still wanna take on Max? Now that you've seen what he can do?"

 _"Why don't you ask him!"_

Lincoln never saw what hit him. A baseball bat slammed into the side of his skull with a god-awful crack. Paul let loose a victorious war whoop as he wielded the metal bat aloft and slammed it down again, this time right into Lincoln's face as he pitched forward.

"Paybacks a bitch huh!"

Paul snarls were laced with venom as he grabbed Lincoln by his hair. Marko materialized at his side with a lead pipe under one arm and grabbed hold of Lincoln's legs. Together the two lifted the concussed vampire and hauled him away from the muscle car so that they would have enough room to work Lincoln over with as much finesse that they could manage in the short amount of time that they had.

"Lincoln!"

Sarah's panicked scream turned into a surprised screech when an arm snaked around her throat and squeezed.

"He can't hear you." David hissed into Sarah's ear as his hand clamped over her mouth and jerked her backward. Caught unprepared Sarah's reaction time was too slow. That gave David enough of an advantage to wrestle her to the ground and pin her beneath him.

"David? What are you doing here? Leave Lincoln alone!" Sarah coughed as David wrenched her right arm behind her back. "Let me go! Lincoln!"

"Oh shut up!" David snapped and slapped Sarah as she tried to fight back. Hard.

"Boys! Hurry up!"

"Don't worry about us. We're good. Just do what you have to." Marko shouted back as Paul chuckled darkly. Already Lincoln looked like he had met the back-end of a semi in reverse.

"I wish I could kill this fucker now!" Paul swung the now bloodied bat with a batter's grace as it whistled through the air once more. He grinned at the meaty smack along with the all-too familiar crack of broken ribs.

"You'll get him tomorrow Paul. Now we just have to make sure he gets the message." Marko slammed his pipe down once, twice, three times and was finally rewarded with the beautiful sound of Lincoln's cannon bone breaking in three different spots.

"Still don't make it fair." Paul muttered while flipped Lincoln onto his stomach. "He ain't even fightin' back."

"That's because you knocked him into next week. I told you not to hit him that hard." Marko reminded Paul as the two worked on pulverizing Lincoln's spine.

"I got caught up in the moment."

Paul cackled as he tap-danced down Lincoln's back. Man, that was going to hurt like hell when he woke up.

"Yeah well do you want him to be able to move tomorrow?" Marko pointed out as he grabbed Paul and pulled him off of Lincoln before anything could be shattered beyond repair. "We're good."

"Fine. But he's mine tomorrow."

Paul snarled, his fangs bared to emphasize his claim. Marko just rolled his eyes. They had gone over this at least ten times and still Paul was adamant that he would be the one to dish out Santa Carla justice when the moment came.

They could not kill Lincoln outside of Santa Carla. Hell they were not even allowed to leave the Santa Carla border without permission from Max so them being out here was strictly off the books.

"I know Paul. C'mon, grab his other arm." Marko tossed his piece of pipe and took hold of Lincoln's busted right arm. Paul shouldered his bloodied bat and yanked Lincoln's left arm up none too gently before the two dragged Lincoln back to the car.

It had taken them under four minutes to do the work of ten.

"He sure won't be happy when he wakes up." Marko laughed as Lincoln was dumped beside the trunk of his car. Paul could not help but admire the classic Chevelle from every angle. It was one hell of a machine. Pity. Whistling a jaunty tune Paul whipped out a switchblade that he had brought along for this particular task.

As Marko looked on, Paul slashed the Chevelle's high performance tires before he went to work on defacing the muscle car's immaculate paint job.

"Hey Marko, remind me how you spell payback?" Paul laughed as he engraved the word into the driver's door.

"Don't forget to asshole Paul. Because he is a major asshole." Marko smirked and gave Lincoln's battered unconscious form a swift kick just for the hell of it.

"Yes sir!" Paul barked in a mock salute as he spun around and kicked the driver's side mirror clean off.

"Are you two finished yet?" David slung Sarah over his shoulder before he rose to his feet. She hung limp and lifeless but there were no obvious signs of assault.

"Just about! Give me one more second."

Paul quickly carved his name into the front chrome bumper with a skillful flourish. There would be no getting that out without some severe auto-body overhauling.

"How'd you shut her up?" Marko asked David curiously. They all knew from experience that Sarah never went down easy. "Did you drain her?"

"No. If I did then that master would know about it. They're too closely bonded now and the last thing we need is for him to be aware of this." David explained as he dug into his coat pocket and withdrew an empty syringe that he had taken from Paul's private stash.

"A large enough dose of the horse tranquilizers Paul uses is strong enough to knock out almost any vampire. And she's a lightweight."

"Dude, I never would have thought of that." Paul whistled, highly impressed by David's tactful problem solving.

"No kidding. You just use the stuff to chase a high."

"Yeah, and it's totally worth it. You should try it some time."

"I'll pass."

"Whatever. Your loss."

"And here come the cavalry. Right on time."

Marko nodded to the two forms of Edgar and Tory who ran toward them from the highway.

"Remember, no one mentions that Sarah's one of us." David gave Paul a hard look as he laid Sarah down on the battered hood of the car and stood back.

"God...did you guys...have to park...your bikes so...freaking far away?" Tory gasped as she and Edgar slowed to a staggering walk once they got close enough to the group. Edgar was coughing and panting just as hard as Tory was, having not had to run as far as he had since the sixth grade.

"Did you get him?" Edgar asked Marko and Paul and he got his answer in the form of twin cruel smirks. "Why'd I ask?"

"What's wrong with Sarah?"

Tory growled when she saw Sarah lying there exposed on the hood of the car. She glared at David and her bandaged hand instantly crept towards her belt where.

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. I did not touch her. Boys?" David looked over to Marko and Paul, who nodded in agreement.

"She was like this when we got here." Marko said, his naturally cherubic face made it impossible for Tory to figure out whether he was lying or not. Paul wisely kept his trap shut.

"Then why is she like that? What's wrong with her? What did you do?" Tory asked, not satisfied with that answer. These guys were vampires. She could not trust them. Not by a long shot.

"Probably because she's in an induced sleep. Makes it easier to feed off someone over an extended period of time. Sweetens the flavour." David did not looking the least bit guilty as he made the two teens squirm. "Vampires have the ability to do that you know."

"I know that!" Tory glared at David. They locked eyes for a heated moment before Tory turned and gave Edgar a questioning glance. He was the vampire expert after all, not her.

"It's true." Edgar carefully kept his distance from David and moved around the vampires so he could get a look at Lincoln. "Jesus. You guys go all out."

If Edgar had not known that Lincoln was already one of the undead he would have thought that the guy had been beaten to death.

"Every time." Paul leered as he flashed Edgar a toothy grin while he gave the bloodied baseball bat a twirl. Edgar swallowed hard and looked away.

"So what do you want us to do?" Tory asked, getting down to business. The sooner they did what the vampires wanted, the sooner they could get back to Santa Carla and the others.

"Seal him in the trunk."

David motion at the car and Marko and Paul quickly pried open the Chevelle's trunk. Lincoln was stuffed into it with a few extra jabs for good measure.

"So that's why you wanted the holy water." Edgar swung off his backpack and opened it. Inside were canisters of holy water and holy oil, enough to cover the entire body of the car if need be.

"That's right." David's face remained expressionless as he instinctively moved out of the way when Edgar and Tory grabbed the canisters. It was a natural reaction that all vampires had to the stuff but Edgar and Tory did not seem to notice as they closed the trunk and began to pour the blessed water over it.

When Lincoln regained consciousness there would be no way for him to get out. With the car parked far away from the highway Lincoln would bake under the scorching Californian sun while trapped in the confines of his own trunk. He probably would not die from it but after the beating that Marko and Paul had dealt him, Lincoln was going to be more than miserable. Inwardly David applauded his own cleverness as he watched Edgar switch to the holy oil and began to rub it into the seams for extra security.

"Well this sucker's not getting out any time soon." Tory said once she had finished her fourth canister of holy water.

"Good. Make sure you get that stuff off your hands before you meet us back at the bikes." David made sure that they got the message. If they didn't then he and the others would simply leave them here to fend for themselves and find their own way back to town. It was one hell of a long walk.

"Paul, Marko." David nodded toward the direction of their bikes. With identical smug expressions Paul strutted off while Marko followed. David was the last to leave as he carefully picked up Sarah while being x-rayed under Tory's baleful stare. The two locked eyes for a final time and there was something in the way that David regarded Tory that sent an icy chill down her spine. It felt like David had something hanging over her.

When David was finally out of hearing range, Edgar and Tory turned to each other.

"Figured out how to kill these guys yet?" Tory asked as Edgar handed her a regular water bottle and a torn rag for her to use as a towel.

"I'm working on it." Edgar muttered low under his breath as he tried to scrub the holy oil out from under his nails.

"Well you better work faster. We helped them and they found Betty. I mean Sarah. Now the truce is over. It's almost sunrise. I don't know if they'll try anything just yet but you never know." Tory hissed as she opened the water bottle and poured half of it onto her uninjured hand.

"I packed extra just incase they try to dump us on the way back. But something tells me that they'll make their move tomorrow night." Edgar squinted as he tried to spot David's retreating form in the darkness.

"Well we're going to make ours sooner. We know where they sleep and come sun-up we are going to dust their sorry asses. I'm not taking any chances around David. That guy gives me a serious case of the creeps." Tory wiped her wet hand on her shirt before she readjusted the make-shift bandaged on her right hand.

"Fine by me. Alan's gone back to the base to get everything we have so we should be set by the time these guys are coma bound."

Edgar quickly shook his hands and began to shove everything back into his backpack as fast as possible. As much as he disliked riding with vampires, he did not feel comfortable being left alone in the middle of nowhere beside a car that had an unconscious one imprisoned in the trunk.

A sudden wave of lightheadedness came over Tory like a bolt out of the blue. One moment she was perfectly fine and the next she felt like she was floating.

"Hey, you okay?" Edgar asked as he shouldered his pack and grabbed her arm to steady her.

"Huh? Yeah...yeah I'm fine. Just tired." Tory shook her head to try to clear it. Edgar did not look convinced. "Hey, give me a break. It's been a long day."

"Well if it happens again, let me know. These vampires could be trying to mess with our minds." Edgar warned her before they set off in the direction of the others.

Deep down inside, on an instinctual level, Tory knew that it was was not mind games that had her nervous.

When the two finally made their way back to where the motorcycles were parked, the vampires were already mounted and ready to go. Sarah was still out cold and was settled in front of David so that he could steer while keeping a hold of her.

"Took you guys long enough." Paul snorted as he sat back on his bike and drummed is fingers against the leather seat, tapping out a Ramones baseline that was chugging along in his head.

Edgar swallowed a response as he gingerly climbed onto the back of Marko's bike. The night before the guy had almost killed his brother and now Edgar found himself hanging onto him for dear life. Talk about a sick sense of irony but there was nothing to be done. He just had to grit his teeth and bare it like a man. He had to remind himself what would Rambo do?

Paul grinned that cheeky wolfish grin of his and scooted forward when Tory swung her leg over the back of his bike. He did not even bother trying to hide the fact that he was enjoying this.

"Don't think this changes anything." Tory commented quietly as she glanced over at Sarah. Her gut was telling her that something was wrong with all this. Something was not being said. She was probably right because her gut was never wrong. She just wished she knew what the heck it was that had her teeth on edge.

Without a word David keyed the ignition and kicked his bike to life. The others followed suit and when he sped off onto the highway Marko was close behind. Paul took him time in bringing up the rear.

 _You don't fool me._

Tory tightened her hold on Paul when he increased his speed and swerved into the oncoming lane for the hell of it. If Ian had been there he would have lost his mind but secretly Tory found riding shotgun to a vampire was one hell of a speed trip. She knew she was playing with fire but then again she was a pyromaniac.

This felt good. Maybe a little too good.


	22. My Way

Chapter Theme Song: "My Way" by Elvis Presley

* * *

" _Argh!_ Shit!"

Lincoln jammed his blackened fingers into his mouth and sucked hard on them. He had been at it for nearly three hours and still he not could budge the trunk an inch. Every time he tried to use his claws to tear through the thick reinforced steel his fingers started to smoke.

"Those fuckers blessed the damn thing. Fuck!" Lincoln snarled as he adjusted himself so that he was pressed flat on his back. It was roomy in the trunk of the Chevelle but Lincoln was no ninety-pound soaking-wet sorority cheerleader. He barely had any room to maneuver his injured bulk one way or the other.

Did that stop him? Hell no!

 _Grrrrrrrr!_

Lincoln had to get himself free of the muscle car even if it meant having to tear it to pieces. _Ohhhhhh_ just wait until he got his hands on David and his Deadbeat Threesome. Lincoln was going to go ape-shit on their asses. No one locks him in his own trunk and gets away with it. No one!

"C'mon Baby...c'mon girl...work with me now." Lincoln gritted his teeth as he braced his screaming shoulders against the trunk floor. He adjusted his arms and legs before he pushed against the trunk lid with everything he had. Metal creaked and groaned ominously but after a hard-fought minute the car refused to release him from her clutches.

"Goddamnit!" Lincoln slammed his fist into the side of the trunk with a vengeful curse.

Sometime after sunrise Lincoln had regretfully regained consciousness only to find himself trapped in this make-shift hellhole. Stuffed in his own trunk battered and bloodied he was left broken and utterly helpless. The sun was barely in the sky before outside temperatures reached a whopping 90 degrees. There was no way to avoid the slow painful wait until nightfall. Thanks to his own god-damn insomnia Lincoln had cooked away all day like a turkey in an oven and experienced every vivid minute of it.

Think of hell. Now add a hundred degrees to that and Satan's chiropractor rearranging every single bone in his body for hours on end.

By the time night rolled around Lincoln was foaming at the mouth, madder than a hornet on hash. When he realized that the Lost Boys had trapped him in good by dosing his car in the tears of Christ or whatever the hell they had used, well, Lincoln was ready to annihilate something.

"Just you wait Dave. When I get hands on you there won't be enough left to feed a fuckin' hell hound you son-of-a..."

Lincoln spewed vulgarity as he balled his right hand into an iron fist and rammed it into the trunk's rear. Instead of punching a hole right through the taillight Lincoln let out a yelp of pain. The car pitched to one side in protest.

"Oh come on!"

The body of the Chevelle shuddered before its heavy bulk rocked to the other side. Lincoln whacked his throbbing skull against the car jack that was stowed away in the far corner.

Something large had collided into car. Before Lincoln could utter another colourful string of choice words a third ear-ringing _wham_ rocked the muscle car once more before the trunk was wrenched open with a sharp metallic screech. Lincoln winced at the sound before he cautiously looked up into the face of his rescuer.

" _I'm dead._ " A tiny voice whimpered in the back of his mind as he reluctantly met Lucard's furious eyes and saw death glaring back at him.

So. Very. Fucked.

Lincoln did not utter a word as the Master vampire reached in and grabbed him by the neck. Lincoln remained silent as he was yanked out of the trunk and thrown to the ground. A small yelp of pain shamefully escaped him when he landed hard on his swollen spine but other than that Lincoln swallowed his tongue. Experience had taught him that remaining silent was the best method of survival at a time like this.

Whatever Paul and Marko had done to him last night was child's play compared to what the old Baron was ready to unleash. Lincoln did not have to look at the Master to know that the vampire was a fraction away from loosing it completely. The ominous looking storm clouds overhead told Lincoln everything he needed to know.

"How could you have been so careless?" The words came out soft and low but Lincoln flinched as if the master had struck him.

He did not dare respond.

"I warned you Lincoln. I told you what would happen if your stunts got out of hand. And now your amateurish behaviour has endangered Sarah. If you are willing to throw away your life for a pathetic vendetta then so be it. Yet your actions have now drawn in us all. You are well aware of what happens now are you not?"

Lucard's dark brown eyes reflected the silent flashes of premature lightning that speared the sky as he stood over Lincoln's cringing form. If he took hold of Lincoln now he was liable to crush his fledgling bodyguard like a hollow shell with a single surge of unchecked rage. It would not be the first time that another vampire had met his untimely end by Lucard's own hand in that fashion.

"Answer me."

Lincoln swallowed hard and gave a short nod while he kept his head lowered. Grovelling on his belly like a pathetic worm was the only option that Lincoln had and he didn't think twice about subjecting himself to complete and utter humiliation.

Only this time it was not going to save his hide.

A deep guttural growl rumbled deep within the Master's chest as he lashed out and planted his right foot on the back of Lincoln's neck. Lincoln groaned as the bridge of his nose cracked but the sound was muffled as Lucard ploughed his face into the bone-dry dirt and made him eat it.

"Answer me."

" _Yes!"_

"Yes what."

" _Master. Yes master."_

Lincoln had not called Lucard by that title in over ten years. In the beginning it was mandatory but over the years the two vampires had formed a close bond that went beyond social titles and ranks. Lucard and Lincoln had managed to cultivate a sort of father-son relationship instead of the traditional master and fledgling accord. But now whatever had been forged over the long years seemed to be forgotten as the old vampire painfully reminded Lincoln of his place on the bottom of the vampiric totem pole. It was a bitter pill for Lincoln to swallow and one that Lucard had no trouble ramming down his fledgling's throat.

"How many times have I warned you Lincoln? How many times have I fended off the wolves for your own misdoings? How many times have I interfered when justice had to be done on your account? How many times!"

Lucard's hard voice held a gale storm of fury as he grabbed Lincoln once more by the back of his neck and hauled him off the ground. He did not stop there. Bright lights erupted in Lincoln's eyes as his teeth snapped together when he crashed headlong into the side of his car. A mid-sized dent was left in the door where his skull had made contact with the reinforced metal.

"Too many!"

Lucard's large calloused hand found Lincoln's throat for a third time. Lincoln did not have it in him to gasp as the master vampire throttled the living day-lights out of him single-handedly. Sad thing was Lucard was just getting warmed up and they both knew it.

"This time Lincoln you will answer for you transgressions. I will no longer allow you to use me as a shield for your own protection. You will go into Santa Carla and you will find Sarah. When you do you will send her back to me. Is that understood? _Is that understood!_ "

Lucard bodily slammed Lincoln up against the Chevelle once more as he held his disgraced fledgling close so that Lincoln would see the true meaning of his words. There was no _bring her back_ but only _send her back_. Lucard expected one vampire to make it out of Santa Carla that night and that vampire was not Lincoln.

Lincoln did not struggle. He did not put up any sort of resistance as he hung from Lucard's unforgiving grip. It would not have done him any good. Instead Lincoln opened his eyes and locked gazes with the master vampire.

"Completely." Lincoln choked on the word.

For a second he thought he saw a faint glimmer of remorse behind the old vampire's burning eyes. He probably imagined it. The Boss was ready to destroy Lincoln so why would sending him to his death be any different?

Lucard held Lincoln's gaze until he relaxed his death grip on Lincoln's throat. Lincoln instantly lowered his head in submission and remained frozen beside the car until the Master stepped away and turned his back to him.

The roiling storm clouds overhead crackled and hissed with anticipation of the thunderstorm that was waiting to be unleashed. Already a biting westerly wind had picked up and the rancid smell of decaying fish and seawater drifted through the desert, even though it was miles from the Pacific.

Gingerly massaging his bruised throat, Lincoln eyed the old vampire's broad back with some faint hope that Lucard would turn around and allow Lincoln to redeem himself. But no, the rigid set of Lucard's powerful shoulders told Lincoln that the master vampire was beyond giving him another chance.

Often he was warned that one day the time would come when he would have to deal with the consequences of his various heinous actions that had constantly infuriated the vampire circles. Over the years Lincoln had made himself a laundry list of potentially lethal enemies but by being under Lucard's protection Lincoln had thought himself untouchable. Indeed he had been because no vampire had the nerve to try to take him out while Lucard lorded over him.

But Lincoln never imagined that the old Master would so blatantly cast him aside for something as trivial as a few dead hookers and a bunch of pissed off underlings. Lincoln had done a hell of a lot worse to vampires that had some serious clout to them and Lucard had always stood by him then. What had changed now?

It was a fruitless attempt to get an answer. The mental bond they shared was sealed off and Lincoln could barely make a dent against his defences. If Lucard even felt the mental nudge he did not react.

Standing there, just a few meters away from his lord and master, protector and mentor, Lincoln never felt so betrayed and alone.

The old Master remained motionless as the biting wind worked through his hair. His unwavering gaze was locked on a fixed point on the horizon as he ignored the unspoken words on Lincoln's lips. A nerve in his jaw twinged as he forced himself to remain disconnected to his fledgling's inquiring pleas in the silence that surrounded them. The damage was done and not even Lucard could prevent what was fated to happen now.

The suffocating silence dragged on as the two vampires stood apart, neither willing to be the first to break from the moment. With a muffled sniff Lincoln ran his bruised hands through his tangled hair and took his car keys out of his back pocket.

"Right then. That's that."

Lucard's eyes drifted closed as he listened to Lincoln curse under his breath when he discovered the graffiti job that Paul had etched into his car. The car door opened and Lincoln hissed in pain as he gingerly lowered himself into the driver's seat. The wounds that he had obtained at the hands of Paul and Marko the night before were still healing. He was more than sore as hell in a number of places. Having Lucard throw him against his car had not helped things in the slightest.

The slamming of the Chevelle's heavy door hammered deep within the old vampire. He remained motionless as the powerful LS-6 engine roared to life with a guttural snarl. The back tires kicked up a cloud of dirt and rock as Lincoln threw the Chevy into first, stomped on the gas, popped the clutch and tore off toward the highway leaving the Master Vampire alone in the middle of nowhere.

"I'm gonna get you for this David. Damn me if I don't." Lincoln swore to himself as he kicked the clutch down, pulled the gear shift into second, and slammed the gas pedal to the floor for a second time.

The Chevelle bucked as the grumbling growl grew into a full-throated roar as she switched her gait to full power. Lincoln let the muscle car have her head as the back end fishtailed sharply once rubber met worn asphalt. The tell-all cherry bomb glasspack muffler grumbled in anger as miles were reduced to seconds.

Lincoln snagged his darkly tinted aviator glasses from the sun visor over his head. Despite the fact that it was dark as pitch outside Lincoln donned the shades in order to hide his eyes from view. In spite of himself Lincoln swore at his own stupidity as the back of his hand caught the few tears that dared to show how much this was hurting him.

Imagine that, the world's biggest vampiric prick sniffling like some snot-nosed six year old because he was being sent to his death. God, he was getting soft. He had to be. There was no other reason that he would admit to. Lucard sending him into hell on a platter did not cut it. Feeling sorry for himself because he had been one "bad boy" was jack shit. No, he had to be getting soft. Maybe Sarah's emotional baggage had altered him in some way.

Yeah, that was it. Made sense.

"You're gonna pay."

Lincoln's grip on the steering wheel tightened dangerously. If he was going to meet his Maker, he was not going alone. He would take them all with him. Every last one of them.

This was going to be his finest hour.

All his way on the highway to hell.

"You're all gonna pay."


	23. Little Less Conversation

Wooooooooo!

It only took me, what, two years to get to this chapter? Call me a fashion victim and point me to the nearest diet frozen yogurt bar. (shakes head) Well, I am happy to present what has to be my favourite chapter in this ongoing saga of a story. The Diner Scene. An homage to old school 80's vampires and a respectful nod to the incredible bar scene from "Near Dark". Grab yourself a bucket of blood and jump on in!

Lincoln lets loose and has a ton of fun doing it and we all get to discover a fun little secret that he's been keeping under wraps. There's a surprise cameo by a very special guest and a little present at the very end of the chapter for all you wonderful readers.

Enjoy the ride. Stay awesome folks and rock on!

Chapter Theme Song: _"Little Less Conversation"_ by Elvis Presley

* * *

But first a word from the sponsors.

" _Is life getting you down? Do you feel like there's just no point anymore? Well that's cause it's Monday folks! Don't let those early work-week blues get to you down. DJ J.P Jones is all fired up and ready to get to work so that you can too. Here's a Golden Oldie from The King to remind you all that the weekend isn't as far off as you think because everyone's dancing to that jailhouse rock!"_

The Chevelle raced through the darkness like a black and white tiger as Lincoln kept his foot a deadweight on the gas. The engine's guttural snarling was plain old mean while those top-of-the-line racing tires clawed up asphalt as they tore toward the Santa Carla border. Even the heavily tinted lenses of the Aviators could not dull the vicious gleam of Lincoln's eyes as he ground down his teeth.

He cursed David's name repeatedly like a mantra.

Lincoln did not fear death. Self-preservation was a trait that had been lost in some stinking shit pile of a Vietnamese jungle back in the late Fifties. He always knew that he would never be lucky. In life and whatever came next.

Lincoln had no business wanting to live a full life. God, immortality was great and all but from his end of the deal, it seriously sucked. Close on thirty years of sleepless days and blood soaked nights was enough to make any man stop and wonder if a bullet between the eyes was a good idea. Problem was a bullet would not cut it. No, if he was going to go out, he was going to do it in a blaze of freaking glory.

But first he had to take care of a little business.

It no longer mattered what he did so long as he got Sarah out of Santa Carla. The Boss was not going to care if he just blew the whole business up to the high heavens. And if he did, well, he was supposed to die right? Fine then.

But he was not going to be the only one.

As the music blasted out of the Chevelle's car radio, Lincoln couldn't help but agree with The King. That man always knew what to do with enough flare to last ten lifetimes. There were not enough rhinestones in the world that could outshine that legacy.

 _"Brother turned to Shifty and he said, nix nix._

 _I gonna stick around while I get my kicks!"_

The seedy roadside all-night diner was nothing special. Disgraced with a side-order of faded glory from the days when Route 66 was a crowning jewel for road riders from coast to coast. Its purpose had long since lost its usefulness once the new and improved four-lane highways became the main arteries for travel across state lines. Rusted chrome and broken neon with crack sidings would have repelled most people. But Lincoln was not people. Not even close.

The flickering moth light sign was what caught his attention.

 **Don a's D n r**

Lincoln had once knew a gal named Donna. She was a real pistol. Right up to when he drained her. A true ginger never tasted better than she had after she had pulled the trigger and left a dollar sized hole in his gut. That was one scar he wished he still had.

The red-eye night shift and the few bleary-eyed patrons did not think anything of the roaring muscle car that swerved off the old highway and fishtailed into a parking spot beside a battered Ford pick-up that had at one time been blue. It looked miserable enough that whoever owned that rust bucket should have it taken out back and shot.

Even in her current condition the Chevelle looked miles better than the rigs scattered across the dilapidated parking lot. A few long-distance haulers took up one end while the rest just squatted on cracked pavement making love to the weeds with their tires. The only vehicle that had any sort of spark left in it was an old soft-top Cadillac, one of those chrome boats on white-walled tires with polished hubcaps. This one was tucked away from the rest in the shadows on the far-side of the grease joint. Somebody did not want anyone touching that old cruiser.

Lincoln eased out of his car with a sigh behind his teeth as the Chevelle shifted from the weight. He was going to have to feed this beast before he took a piss on private property and his Baby only took the finest crude on the market. Well, she was just going to have to settle for whatever backwoods moonshine this place had until he could give her what she really wanted.

"Now play nice."

The engine ticked in response as it began to cool. Lincoln fingered the spot where the side-mirror had been removed. His expression was unreadable as his hand drifted across the scarred hood and slid into the unfriendly grooves that marred the usually pristine white racing stripes. His tongue hitched with the concern of a broody mother hen when he squatted down on his heels to inspect the cracked headlights.

His precious girl was not bashful about showing off her scars but she was not happy about how these ones came about. It had been a dirty cheap trick. She deserved better.

"Don't you worry none. I'll be right back."

No one inside the diner seemed to notice the slight drop in temperature when a tousled haired stranger in leather limped into the small establishment.

The tired tinkling of the door's old bell alerted the dead-eyed server of a new arrival but everyone else kept their heads down in their bottomless cups of tire-black coffee. A group of heavyset truckers grumbled their speculations over the Santa Carla murders. One of them was convinced that the Red Letter Killer was nothing more than a cover up for a group of Satanist nut jobs who had it in for prostitutes. It made sense didn't it? All those that had died recently were professional whores after all.

Lincoln smirked slightly when he heard this. That guy would shit himself if he knew that the "Satanist" had just entered the room. Without bothering to take off his glasses, Lincoln headed to the front counter and plunked himself down on one of the cracked vinyl topped stools. He made sure to keep his head down as he hunched over the countertop with his elbows propped. With the glasses and the way his hair hung in his face, it was impossible for anyone to make out the mad gleam of brilliant hellfire in his eyes.

"What the heck happened to you stranger? You look like you've been through hell and back." The waitress commented as she dug out her small note pad and fiddled with the pencil behind her ear. The name tag on her gingham uniform read "Peggy".

"Somethin' like that." Lincoln coughed.

He curved his hands toward his chest in order to ensure that his lengthening nails were hidden from the woman's view.

"You want coffee? You look like you could use some." The rail-thin woman clucked sympathetically as she turned her back in order to retrieve the two hour old pot that sat stewing on a hot plate.

"How about the house special?"

Lincoln arched his scarred eyebrow over the rim of his sunglasses.

"Why not?"

As Peggy busied herself with the small flask that she always kept secreted in her apron pocket, the youngest member of the trucker gang stood up from his booth and went over to the scuffed jukebox that sat in the far corner of the diner. He took his time as he sorted through the selection of tunes that were available. When he did not find anything that caught his eye, he put in a quarter and randomly selected an Elvis tune.

After all, you could never go wrong with The King right?

The twanging of electric guitars and the crash of cymbals thumped from the old tune player and Lincoln cocked his head to listen.

Well whaddaya know?

Talk about serendipity. Kinda made him want to get up and dance.

" _Little less conversation, a little more action please_

 _All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me_

 _A little more bite and a little less barkA little less fight and a little more spark_

 _Close your mouth and open up your heart and baby satisfy me."_

Boy, the King of Rock and Roll sure knew how to make a guy feel good. Lincoln's fingers started to tap out the tin drum rhythm on the faded counter top as the music's flavour got to him. When the waitress turned around to hand him the diner's special she froze in mid-motion. It was not until the coffee pot shattered did anyone bother to look up to see what was the matter.

" _Baby close your eyes and listen to the music_

 _Drifting through a summer breeze_

 _It's a groovy night and I can show you how to use it_

 _Come along with me and put your mind at ease."_

Lincoln laughed loud and hard as he sashayed with the music. His glasses lay discarded on the counter top and his face was bare for all to see. And boy did they get an eyeful. It was not every day that a vampire came into their dive and started dancing up the walls.

Lincoln smiled that lazy coy-dog grin as he moon walked along the ceiling until he was hanging right over the waitress' head. Her mouth hung uselessly somewhere between her breasts as Lincoln pulled a Smooth Criminal on the spot overhead. He did more than just defy the laws of gravity. He broke them with style.

"Satisfy me baby." Lincoln's eyes snapped open. Those glowing eyes were the last things Peggy would ever see.

The woman let out a blood curdling scream as she staggered into the coffee maker and split another pot of lukewarm coffee all down her front. Lincoln cackled as he watched her flail about in a blind panic.

He had gouged out her eyes with a single swipe of his claws and boy did she taste fine! Must be all that "diner special". He sucked on his bloodied fingers as Elvis kicked the tempo up a notch.

" _Come on baby I'm tired of talking_

 _Grab your coat and let's start walking."_

The diner's patrons bolted in every direction as the line cook came running out from the back with a large kitchen knife held at the ready. But it was all in vain. There was nowhere to go. The front door refused to open.

Lincoln sized up the small group and cracked his knuckles, one finger at a time.

"Now, let's have us some fun."

Lincoln dropped from the ceiling and twisted cat-like in mid-air, landing on his feet smack dab in the middle of the panicked group. Needless to say, from that moment on Lincoln had fun. Plenty of fun. So much fun in fact that it was impossible to contain it all.

The back-up chorus sang out with the restless beating of the drums as Lincoln went about painting the diner red. First, he crippled them all so that no one would do anything stupid, like jump through the diner windows. It made it easier for him to toy with them. He was on a tight schedule and there was no time to waste chasing down hysterical humans. He had vampires to slaughter.

" _Come on, come on_

 _Come on, come on_

 _Come on, come on_

 _Don't procrastinate, don't articulate_

 _Girl it's getting late, you just sit and wait around!"_

Lincoln howled as he danced along on the gore-splattered counter top, swaying this way and that as droplets of blood rained down on him from the ceiling. His boot heels left bloodied slicker marks on the worn-out linoleum. Just like twenty years ago, history repeated itself. Body parts were strewn everywhere. Streaks of blood cascaded across every available flat surface, including the windows. In no time at all anyone that sported a pulse was reduced to jigsaw pieces.

Ohhhhhh, how he missed this!

Lincoln jumped off the counter and grab hold one of the many legs that were piled off to the side. As the song crescendoed Lincoln strummed along, using the leg as a makeshift guitar. Blood dripped all around him. Enough that it landed like gory snowflakes when he threw back his head and stuck out his tongue.

God it felt _so_ damn good to let loose!

Lincoln whooped and hollered as he hopped the counter and grabbed a few severed heads before he slid _Risky Business_ style into the kitchen. Looked like old Cookie forgot to turn off the gas. Tsk tsk tsk.

Lincoln mimicked Elvis' Memphis drawl perfectly as he tossed the heads onto the grill. The kitchen soon filled with the barbecue sizzle of roasting flesh as Lincoln whirled around the kitchen grabbing eggs, flour, peppers, whatever was just lying there. He tossed it all onto the grill and got to work.

"Little salt, little pepper, can't forget the Tabasco. Little more, little more. Perfect." Lincoln sprinkled, ground and shook the seasonings onto the browning heads and stuffed a few cloves of garlic into the open mouths where the skin had pulled back due to the intense heat.

"Order up!"

Lincoln hollered aloud to no one in particular once he flipped the heads off the grill and onto a number of plates with a greasy spatula. He stood back for a second and admired his handy work. The heads sat on the plates like grotesque mounds of flesh atop sections of a large omelette, all cooked meat and charred skin.

"Now that looks finger lickin' good."

Lincoln snapped off a crispy bit of an ear and popped it into his mouth as he sauntered out of hell's kitchen feeling mighty pleased with himself.

The appetizer definitely whetted his appetite. But now it was time to get to work on the main course. The night was young and he had plenty to do.

Lincoln paused on his way out to grab his glasses let out a full-chested belch. Feeling satisfied and whole once more he was ready to call down the thunder. All of the bruises had disappeared. He did not have a sore spot or broken bone on him. He felt good. He was ready. Now it was time to kill and be killed. He just had one last thing to do.

"Thanks amigo."

Lincoln gave the jukebox a lazy military salute as he unlocked the front door and gave the diner a final once over.

 _"Any time."_

Lincoln's face split into his trademark jackal grin as a man everyone knew as The King watched him from behind a similar pair of dark Aviator sunglasses.

Elvis Presley, decked out in a trademark gaudy rhinestone white jumpsuit that had been his trademark in the 70's, sat in what had been an empty booth beside the jukebox. He was completely at ease with the bloodbath around him as he finished off the remains of a deep fried peanut butter and banana sandwich.

He looked exactly as he did when he had died, large and in charge. The famous sideburns and pompadour were as pristine as ever.

Like everyone else in the supernatural community Lincoln had heard the stories about Elvis sighting all over the country. He never believed any of it. Just bar talk from someone who heard it from another person who knew someone else. Despite the fact that he was supposed to be dead and buried over in Graceland, there he sat. Lincoln could feel power radiate off the legend that was all stylish silk scarves and gold.

Funny how he would be the one to find him in a dilapidated way-side pitstop out in the middle of nowhere California. But then again The King did work in mysterious ways.

"Well, this sure is somethin' ain't it?"

Lincoln remained where he was as Elvis ran an ivory comb through his perfect hair. The two men shared an unspoken understanding. Ask no questions, tell no lies.

When the music icon rose to his feet Lincoln stepped aside and held the door open for him out of respect. Elvis gave him a single nod and strode out of the diner-turned-slaughterhouse to where that 1955 Cadillac sat waiting for him. No longer wearing shadows as a cover its brilliant pink paint job was almost blinding to behold.

None of it made a lick of sense but it was it supposed to? Lincoln's screwball mind was probably up to its old tricks and if he slipped down the rabbit hole for good he was too far gone to care.

" _The king has left the building_ "

Lincoln could not help but laugh as he heard Elvis murmur those last words in his ear. The half-crazed vampire watched as the Cadillac roared to life and drift out of the parking lot without leaving so much as a tire mark. Lincoln waved as the old gas guzzler drove off down the road and fade into nothingness like a soon forgotten memory.

Well how about that?

"Now, now, I didn't forget about you."

Four plastic water pitchers filled to the brim with thick fresh blood were brought out into the parking lot, two at a time. Careful not to spill any of it, Lincoln opened the gas hatch and poured the contents of the pitchers into the Chevelle's gas tank. The first two litres did nothing. The third perked her up. By the final pitcher Lincoln's Baby looked like her old self.

"Feelin' better?"

There was nothing like a little grease in the gasket to get the old engine humming. Even demonic road machines needed some comfort food every once in a while.

Now for the top up.

Lincoln unsheathed his bowie knife and made a deep slice in the palm of his left hand. His blood flowed in a steady stream down his fingers and into the the tank. He had to eyeball the amount but when the headlights blinked on of their own accord Lincoln knew he hit the sweet spot.

"There we go."

The Chevelle purred in agreement as her engine turned over. Knife sheathed and bleeding stopped, Lincoln gave the car's trunk a friendly pat on her trunk to show that there were no hard feelings about earlier. He had not wanted to hurt his girl and they both knew just how hard his head was.

"Now how about we go git us some dessert darlin'! Little payback sure goes down sweet don't it?"

The big block 454 engine hit a higher pitch for a moment before it settled down to its deep gurgling rumble. His Baby accepted the apology and was hungry for more.

"'Atta girl Baby. Let's go get 'em! C'mon!"

The heavy reinforced driver's door swung open without being touched as Lincoln pulled his keys out of his pocket and slid into the bucket seat that was moulded to his body. The Lost Boys were going to have their little world turned on its ass the moment the Chevelle crossed territory lines. They had no idea what they had set themselves up against.

Armed and ready, riding the high of a massive blood rush, Lincoln was not going to stop or be stopped until he ripped David's head from his shoulders. Come hell or high water, whichever came first, he was going to do it.

This time he was not going at it alone. His Baby now had a bone to pick with those west coast boneheads and when she held a grudge, she held onto it but good.

No one picks a fight with a Chevelle and walks away in one piece. Especially with one that has a mind of its own and one hell of a nasty temper.


	24. Burn In Hell

Chapter Theme Song: _"Burn In Hell"_ by Twisted Sister

***Whenever Twisted Sister makes an appearance in a Lost Boys fic, it's essentially the universal symbol of giving Max the finger. Because to hell with Max!

* * *

And so, it begins.

As if on cue drops of water began to strike the parched earth. Within minutes the roiling clouds overhead did what the old vampire could not. They began to weep.

By the time the Master landed heavily on the doorstep of the designated safe house, the rain was coming down in torrents. The Californian coastline, from San Francisco to Los Angeles, was dealt an unexpected onset of a late-night storm. Oddly enough the local weathermen had predicted nothing but clear skies and temperatures in the high nineties for the upcoming week. Interesting, how unpredictable nature could be.

Lucard unearthed the keys from his coat pocket with a weariness that showed his age and unlocked the front door just as a spear of lightning crackled overhead. He was thoroughly drenched by the time he entered. For someone who had always been so meticulous about his appearance, he left a blanket trail of rainwater across the ornate marble flooring. Decorum and tradition be damned.

Another flash of lightning lit up the dark silent house before the tethered boom of thunder followed a moment later, rattling the windows with its incredible presence. It was all very melodramatic and borderline Byronic. Had it been a different occasion Lincoln surely have made some snide remark about overused clichés and Christopher Lee.

Tonight however, it was quite fitting. The storm, the darkness, the lashing rain, projected his mood perfectly. The weather was as dismal as he was.

Lucard tossed the keys onto the writing desk and headed straight for his study. The lightning outside provided enough luminosity for him to navigate toward the massive imposing mahogany desk that took up an entire section of the well-appointed room. Covered in massive leather-bound volumes, countless file folders and gathered papers, contracts, legal dealings, leases, and an assortment of business articles, everything was organized with military precision. Easy to locate and exactly where he needed it to be. The latest steel merger with the Chinese was placed front and center, waiting for the strike of his signature gold and ebony pen.

Like many of the high-ranking members of vampiric nobility, the Baron Lucard was active in the field of present day business ventures. A well-honed hobby of his that had carried through from the beginnings of the Industrial Revolution and seen him through several lucrative large-scale wars. The stock market was his favourite form of gambling. His latest buy-in was shares in the Microsoft company, the latest rising star on Wall Street. Everything pointed to the computer as being the way of the future and who was he to deny fate? It was better to get caught up in the pull of the present than lost to the memories of the past.

Yet all this he ignored. The deadlines and the memos remained where they were, utterly forgotten as he shed his waterlogged suit jacket and tossed it haphazardly across the desk. Not a single damn was given if the paperwork was ruined. He wanted nothing to do with the human world at this point. He just wanted to be left alone.

 _ **Alone again?**_

Lucard stilled as a voice grumble from the dark corners of his study. Rough and uncouth, a New York cab driver lurching out of a film noir from the Forties. It was the harsh sound of cheap cigarettes and nickel beer.

 _ **Seriously?**_

There was no physical presence in the room. He would have sensed it upon entering what was still his domain. There was no scent, no trace of a figure. Yet he knew that voice well. Well enough to expect it to come to taunt him at a time like this.

 _ **You know, this seems to be the going trend for you. I wonder why?**_

Lucard's eyes hardened dangerously. His shoulders tensed as he sat down in the black leather armchair that stood behind his desk. Massive in size, it was thronelike whenever he sat in it. But none of this seemed to daunt the voice as it cackled quietly from the shadows cast by the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that lined the walls on all sides.

 _ **Oh, that's just sad. A real tear jerker for the ages. I mean, you knew it was coming, right? Just like the last time? And the time before that, and the time before that, all the way back to the beginning. Fun times for sure. Well, they were for me. You, I'm not so sure about.**_

Lucard clenched his jaw with such force that he almost cracked a tooth.

 _ **You got something going on there...toothache or are you just pissed?**_

The Master vampire refused to answer. Instead he pulled open the bottom drawer and took out a crystal tumbler and decanter of brandy. He poured himself a generous amount that was knocked back in a single swallow before he poured out another chaser.

 _ **You can't avoid me forever you know.**_

The putrid stink of moldering decay and brimstone suddenly engulfed the room. It was potent enough to make even the foulest of vampires turn their noses in disgust.

 _ **Awww c'mon. Don't be like that. Are you trying to hurt my feelings? I don't have any, remember? But I guess it's the thought that counts.**_

Lucard lifted the glass to his lips as he shut his eyes.

 _ **Hey! You look at me when I'm talking to you.**_

The cut crystal tumbler was yanked out of his hand and whipped at his head with such paranormal speed that Lucard's innate reflexes kicked in. He ducked just in time to avoid being hit and the glass whizzed past before it shattered against the bookcase behind him. High-end brandy soaked through first editions that were worth more than what the average American earned in a year.

 _ **Now look what you made me do.**_

The vampire slowly straightened in his seat, eyes still closed and his expression still fixed. The voice sniggered something in a language that was not from this world. Instead of giving-in to the demands he ran a phrase over and over in his head.

 _Ay, go accursed spirit to ugly hell!_

 _T'is thou hast damn'd distressed Faustus' soul. Is't not too late?_

 _ **Oh, here we go. This old schtick again. You know for a guy your age you really need to invest in some new material. You're starting to come off a little dated. And I'm saying that as a friend.**_

Lucard repeated the line to himself, again and again, as the god-awful stink grew stronger. Something finally shifted in the shadows. A shape, darker than pitch, skittered across the ceiling. Cracks were left in the drywall as the shadow dweller salamander-danced onto the edge of one of the wooden shelves before it perched itself on the top of the leather armchair. It sat there like type of overweight demonic parrot, right over the vampire's shoulder.

 _ **Not too late? For what? Saving that rabid excuse you call a son? Or that little piece of pious ass you just bartered away good land for? Mind you, she is kind of tasty. If you like virgins. Me? I like them experienced. The hoochier the better. I hate having to do all the work. Never figured you'd be into that whole daddy dom scene though. Hey, I don't judge. You do you big guy. Whatever keeps you feeling young. C'mon, am I getting warmer?**_

That voice! That aggravating sneering was a blunted stiletto in his brain. Thin and deadly it dug right into the nerve center. Lucard's eyes flew open as he sprang from the chair and kicked it back in a blur of motion that was too fast to follow. The voice let out an indignant screech as the chair toppled just as the old vampire's powerful roar tore through the study, silencing the shadowed parasite with the weight of his presence.

"MONACHUS! URLAUB!"

 _Monachus, begone!_

Molten gold flashed in the darkness with a deadly tint of hellfire.

"Get out of my sight before I send you back to hell in pieces!"

The room went silent.

 _ **Jeez. Someone's a little touchy. Did I hit a nerve?**_

The voice, Monachus, sniggered as Lucard snarled and grabbed the closest object at hand. An ornately carved marble bust of Julius Caesar that may or may not have been an original. He whipped the heavy object across the room and was rewarded with shriek of surprise as the bust shattered on impact.

It would appear that vampiric reflexes were on par with that of an agent of the dark dominion.

"Why are you here? Who sent you, you foul wretch?"

Lucard's growl was every bit as deep and dark as a pride leader's on the attack.

 _ **No one sent me you old gasbag. I'm your personal devil incarnate remember? The old eternal ball and chain? You signed over your soul to me how many centuries ago? What, did you forget our contract? Now that hurts. If I had a heart it would be wounded. It pains me to see that I mean so little to you. What, with the unending eons of personal torment and unrelenting suffering, you'd think you'd know me by now. Where's the respect? I gotta say, I'm a little upset by this.**_

"Monachus I have no patience for you. Not now."

 _ **You never do. These days it's always about the work. The deals. All that business stuff the means absolutely nothing to someone in your position. I'm starting to feel a little neglected here.**_

"Why are you doing this? Why now?" Lucard glared at the shadows.

 _ **Gereon,**_ _**old buddy, old pal. My truest and dearest and only compadre. I'm the one who looks out for you remember? I'm here to do you a favour.**_

"And that would be?"

His eyes tracked a shift in the shadows. A black figure dove under the red and gold Persian rug and slithered toward him under the carpet like a snake in the grass.

 _ **Well, to be quite honest, saving your miserable undead life. Shall I explain? Or would you like to ruminate on it for a while longer? Because I got all the time in the world. But you don't.**_

Lucard bit his tongue as he felt the foul presence skitter its way up the wall until it hung upside-down from the overhead chandelier. Despite the close proximity the Master vampire refused to look up. Instead he sat down on the deep leather two-seater and kept his gaze fixed firmly on the complete set of Tolstoys.

Even undead beings suffered at the hands of the unholy. Everyone had their own personal demons. For Lucard his was a spectral presence that existed between worlds, one that only he could commune with. Even Lincoln had no idea that an actual devil stalked Lucard in his very shadow. Monachus was clever in how he made his presence known. The more emotion the vampire felt, the stronger the demon became.

Crafty little fiend if there ever was one. That was Monachus.

 _ **It's simple see? Our dear friend Von Ruben has it out for you.**_

"He always has and always will."

 _ **Well yeah but this time he's pretty close. And that doesn't bode well for the both of us. Might I remind you that if you die, I get sent back to the Underverse without benefits? I become just another deadbeat in the Sixth Circle. No street cred. No promotion. Nadda. I don't know about you but I'm really starting to like the twentieth century. I want to stick around to see how the new millennium plays out. It's supposed to be a real doozy. With the end of the world stuff and all. I'd like to be there to see it happen. Nothing beats front row seats.**_

"Get to the point." Lucard interjected before Monachus could ramble on about the joys of utter destruction and chaos.

That did not sit well with the torment demon. He was the one in charge here, not the old bloodsucker. Maybe it was time to remind the old fool just who he was dealing with. After all here he was, going out on a limb to help out his angst ridden charge when it was clearly against the rules. And what was he getting for it?

Zilch.

 _ **We had a deal, remember?**_

The demon hissed dangerously in Lucard's ear as it pounced. Lucard let out a garbled choke when a thick cloud of darkness swirled around his head. The hellion dug its needlepoint claws into his skull and viciously wrenched a memory to the surface of his consciousness.

 _ **Remember the contract? Remember the night you signed it? Remember why you signed it? Maybe it's the old age making you go a little senile. It happens to you vampires eventually. So let me help you out.**_

There was no response. Monachus had full control over his thoughts and Lucard was trapped in the fiend's clutches as visions of another lifetime flashed before his eyes.

There was a year. A date scrawled on a piece of vellum parchment.

 _ **1147**_

And a name. The wet ink of the signature shone like liquid ebony in the flickering glow of dozens sputtering candle flames.

 _ **Freiherr Gereon von Fauster**_

There was a hand, a hand covered in open sores that wept disease. The hand held a brown quill. The tip was coated in blood.

His blood.

Before him stood a beautiful man with golden hair and a trimmed beard. It hurt to look at him directly. But he was not a man. Not human, though he wore heavy furs over fine dark clothing.

Monachus in disguise.

The fallen herald held the parchment up to the candlelight. He read aloud the words that had been written in the Germanic tongue. As he spoke the room grew dim.

Too hard to breath. The pain had begun to fade. It was cold.

He was dying.

The virulent sickness had come to the northern borders of the Germanic kingdom. Everyone was dead. There was no stopping the Devil's own doing and he was next.

He refused to die like this.

That refusal would cost him his soul but hope had discarded him long before his mind had. At least this way he would live.

But it was lies. All lies!

 _ **Remember Fausty, if it weren't for me, you would have been a dust heap a hell of a long time ago. You owe me everything.**_

Lucard gasped for air as the images vanished along with the cloying darkness. Lightning flashed once again through the windows. The electric bolt bathed the study in an eerier blue light for a moment. Long enough for the Master Vampire to get his bearings.

He was back in the present and Monachus hissed in his ear like the proverbial serpent.

"I owe you nothing! Eight hundred and forty years of torture is payment enough for your double-crossed lies!"

 _ **And it'll be eight hundred more if you don't give me the respect I deserve.**_

"Hölle hath kein Respekt für das verdammte!"

Lucard spat out the words as if they were something foul that had lodged in his throat. _Hell hath no respect for the damned!_

 _ **Oh yeah? Look whose talking.**_

The light in those eyes was not even vampiric now as the Master pulled back his lips and bared a mouthful of death in the direction of the lesser-demon's presence. The time for talking was over.

The clicking of broken teeth came from the darkest corner of the highest bookshelf. A ratty old book flew at his head on its own accord.

 _ **Recognize this?**_

Indeed, the old vampire did. The cracked spine and yellowed pages were as familiar to him as his own hand. The book, over two hundred years old at least, showed its age but the title that was engraved in gold leaf on the cover shone as brightly as it had the day he received it.

"Marlowe's _Faustus._ " Lucard murmured quietly as he gently ran his fingertips along the battered spine before he carefully opened the book to a random page.

The ink of the play's words had all but faded. He knew every word by heart. Christopher Marlowe's play held such importance to the Master Vampire that it would be cruel not to give it the attention it deserved. After all, the English playwright had penned it in his honour all those years ago.

 _ **That's not what I meant.**_

Lucard quickly closed the book and set it down on a rosewood end table. "It was given to me by Von Ruben when we spent a year together in London."

 _ **Yeah, yeah. And?**_

"And?"

He glanced down at the book for a moment as he felt a strange stirring in the back of his consciousness.

 _ **For the guy who wrote**_ King Lear _**you really are thick sometimes.**_

The lesser demon's comment was ignored. Something felt out of place.

 _ **C'mon, we don't have all night. Think man. Think!**_

Lucard's kept his ears deaf to Monachus' criticism as he held the book in one hand, allowing its weight and texture to trigger a memory that he had all but forgotten.

The night that Von Ruben had given him the book was the night they had gone to see a production of the play itself at the old Drury Lane theatre. Afterward they had stayed up until dawn in deep discussion of the philosophies behind the playwright's intention.

He had made certain to keep his connection to the play a secret. That had not stopped him from voicing his opinion on the flaws and salvation of the human soul.

Something Max had mentioned that night felt important now. What had he spoken about the weakness of man's desires?

" _It is almost pathetic how easily men are ensnared. Faustus was blinded by his own desires to see the obvious. His downfall was eminent. All one has to do in order to bring a man to his knees is to offer him what he can never have."_

"What I could never have."

The vampire repeated those far away words.

 _ **What? What's that?**_

Was it possible? Had his one-time companion and present rival finally figured it out?

 _ **Well?**_

"What I could never have."

What he desired was the simplest thing. One that was nearly impossible to achieve.

His had been a season of prosperity and victory during a time in history when few children ever lived long enough to see the summer of their youth. Raids, siege, drought, and invasion had never gained a solid foothold while he remained the head of a lasting lineage of nobility. His legacy had been secured.

But time marched onward.

From the first telling of the plague-like sickness that had come from settlements beyond his borders, he was the last to be afflicted. Then Monachus had appeared on the back of a fine black horse, a lone traveler in an empty land.

 _ **I'll admit twenty years is a stretch to wait but Von Ruben's a patient guy. I mean, it's not like he's going to grow old and die on us.**_

"Twenty years?"

Lucard tilted his head slightly to the side as he caught the tail end of Monachus' words. He felt the demon's presence manifest itself beside him on the couch. "He tested me."

 _ **And you fell for it. What a sap!**_

"He tested me to see how far I was willing to go. First was Lincoln. But that had not been planned...or had it? When I accepted his offer, I gave myself away. Who else would bother taking on the challenge of rogue? That would have confirmed his suspicions. Then there were the others. The girls. There was always a pawn he was eager to dangle before me."

His thoughts drifted to the girls, before Sarah, that he had brought under his protection only to watch each and every one of them suffer and die from a fate that was never meant to be theirs. It had all been Max's doing. He must have enjoyed every moment of torment his actions caused. But then Max got sloppy.

The hand-carved chess set positioned on the table in the center of the room instantly became the focal point of the vampire's attention. The white pieces stood out against the darkness like rows of bleached bones. The tell-tale Queen loomed above the rest in all her hand-carved glory.

"Slowly have I moved myself across the board to his initial advantage. He thinks he has out-maneuvered me for the last time. His eyes are only on the King now. He cannot see what lies in wait. He is blinded to them. And so, the stage is set. Now, all that is left is to watch for the fall."

 _ **Them who? What stage?**_

"Should I interfere with Lincoln's fate I would be going against Council Law. The very Law I am meant to enforce and uphold. To strike Von Ruben down in his own territory for maintaining the balance would mean nothing short of a death sentence. Lincoln has broken the rules of engagement. He killed purposefully in another Head Vampire's territory without permission, attacked one of Von Ruben's fledglings, and made our presence in Santa Carla known to humans. Lincoln's actions have exposed us. That last act alone would call for a tribunal of the Council Court. I cannot not bear the thought of what they would do to him then."

 _ **Hmph, vampire politics. So you're going to let this schmuck win then? Against you?**_

"My hands are tied."

Even the heartless hellion could pick up on the anguish that had crept into the old vampire's voice.

 _ **I should have known you were still a cold heartless bastard. So, what if Lincoln gets ripped to pieces by the son-of-a-bitch that made him the maniac he is? No skin off my back. I'm sure you'll just find another problem child to substitute him with. The country's full of them you know.**_

Lucard's broad shoulders tensed as a shudder of excitement ran up his spine. From behind the shadows that shrouded it, the lesser-demon perked up.

 _ **Now that's a feeling I haven't felt in while.**_

"So it would seem."

 _ **What are you doing?**_

"I grow tired of this game."

 _ **So?**_

Lucard did not respond. His face had hardened into a rigid mask of stony resolution.

 _ **Was it something I said?**_

In three long strides the Master Vampire crossed the room and reached for a complete leather-bound copy of the Gutenberg Bible that was wedged tightly between collector's copies of the Torah and the Qur'an. Instead of sliding off the shelf, the bible tilted halfway before there was a soft click from a hidden mechanism. The heavy bookshelf sunk into the wall. It took all Lucard's formidable strength to move it aside in order to reveal a door hidden behind it. A lesser vampire would not have been able to accomplish the feat. It took more sheer force to shift that four-ton solid steel panel disguised as a bookshelf.

No knob or lock could be found on the thick wood. There was no groove where stone met wood. This architectural quirk made what lay behind the door an impregnable stronghold. Unless someone had his consent, it was impossible to gain entrance into his fortified resting place. Not even the clever Monachus.

 _ **Oh, the penthouse suite.**_

"Will you be quiet!"

 _ **Alright, alright. Yeesh!**_

Lucard rested his hand flat upon the wooden surface and it responded to his touch. The stronghold was an airless black hole before a single flame bloomed into existence on the end of a half-melted beeswax candle. The faint glow of the fire barely illuminated the multitude of markings that were etched into the reinforced walls. Wards to keep out any unwanted intruder, both on the physical and paranormal plane.

Without a sound, Lucard went straight for the massive black lacquered coffin that dominated the inner sanctum. Of simple design, polished to a high shine, with none of the usual frills that were expected on such a burial piece. Only a small golden plaque was fitted onto the coffin lid. It bore a family crest and personal motto. A plumed helmet was perched upon a plain shield that held an upraised fist that pointed to the heavens. Underneath were the words:

 _Haus von Fauster_

 _Candela exuro perspicuus in obscurum_

The candle burns brightest in darkness

Running a hand through his wet hair to slick it back, Lucard lifted the coffin's heavy lid. The dark silk inner lining of the coffin held the perfect outline of himself in its luxurious folds. Being far more than what it appeared, the coffin kept its secrets well hidden. A hidden compartment contained a set of clothes, pristine and perfectly preserved. It was the iconic ceremonial garb of the Master Vampire.

 _ **What's going on in there? I can't see a damn thing.**_

The solid cloak was still as pliable and unblemished as it had been for the past two hundred and twenty-three years. Masters tended to favour the more fanciful velvets or brocades from their eras for their robes of office. Lucard did not. His was designed specifically for versatility and endurance after the traditional style of the Roman paludamentum, the cloak of commanders.

The heavy fabric was weighted and hung off him in a wave of deep burgundy. Its only embellishment was the metal effigy of red and gold that encircled his shoulder to kept the cloak in place. The clasp was the official symbol of the Order of the Dragon, a twisted winged dragon with its tail wrapped around its throat. A pearl white cross was carved into its back.

It made sense considering his history of serving both the Order and the Council. Little did anyone know that he continued to do so.

Lucard meticulously adjusted the thick folds so that the thick fabric concealed his neck. Practical, imposing and unforgettable, that was the way Lucard wanted it.

 _ **So are you gonna bring down the old fire and brimstone act on him this time? Full on apocalypse? Always a good time. Oh! I know! What about pulling the same stunt you did to that upstart Ruski dictator, what was his name...Hey! Wait a minute! We got to talk this through carefully.**_

But Lucard did not wait. Enough time had already been wasted.

"This ends tonight."

The front door slammed shut with such force that the massive crystal chandelier that hung in the foyer tinkled and swayed precariously.

A powerful boom of thunder shook the house to its foundation as the demon tracked the cloaked form of the Master Vampire until he disappeared into the storm. There went the one vampire that did not have to worry about being crispy crittered by a bolt of lightning because the lightning was on his side.

 _ **Well it's about time. And I get front row seats to the main event. Am I a genius or what?**_


	25. Ballroom Blitz

Mona Baby finally gets a her chance to shine and she slays it! I swear that 70's Chevelle is a real work of art, especially when she's angry. And you get to see just how angry she can be. The Lost Boys are so very much screwed and they are just starting to realize it. Especially with that little surprise David decided to pull. ( _Growls_ ) There will be a reckoning for his actions because not only did he manage to piss off the driver, now the car is gunning to make pate out of his innards.

 **Lincoln:** Shoo boy, they done signed their own death warrants and don't even know it! Ha! This'll be good. I know Lincoln. It will be. But who dies first though? __(Stuffs popcorn into face while watching it all unfold)__

 **Chapter Theme Song:** "Ballroom Blitz" by Sweet

* * *

 **Welcome to Santa Carla**...Murder Capital of the World

 _ **Veeeerrrrrrroooooooommmmmmmm!**_

The large painted sign that stood at the side of the coastal road rocked against the backdraft as a hulking mass of black and white steel torpedoed past, zero to sixty in under six seconds. It violated every damn traffic law in the country. But did the driver care?

Oh hell no.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I'm comin' Davey boy! I'm comin' to getcha!"

The unhinged vampire let loose a mad howl as the Chevelle charged into Santa Carla like one of the four horsemen, out for blood and ready to unleash some serious carnage.

Lincoln's beloved baby did not have to wait long.

A hair-raising screech of rubber on asphalt broke out as the massive muscle car skidded to a dead halt right in the middle of the empty highway. Snarling in disgust, the Chevelle's V8 engine revved in challenge as the bright beams from its headlights illuminated three solitary rag-tag figures in the middle of the road.

Like a scene out of some B-rated spaghetti western, the Lost Boys calmly stared at the Chevelle as they sat back on their bikes. They may be down a fourth but they were as tight as ever. David took a long drag on a cigarette while Marko and Paul flanked him like a pair of matched bookends. Promise, caution, and calamity.

It was a show-down at midnight. One thing was certain. There would be blood.

Lincoln's jackal grin oozed vitriol as he nudged his Aviator glasses down onto the bridge of his nose. He peered over the rims at the three blonde stooges on their crackerjack rides. What a bunch of boy scouts.

"Oh you-hoo!" He called out in a sing-song voice as he stuck his left hand out the open window and gave the Lost Boys a little wave. God, this was sweet. He could smell Paul getting all hot and bothered by his mere presence. Ol' Paulina was an easy mark but it was David that Lincoln was after.

A nerve in Paul's jaw twitched sporadically as he clenched his fists around the handlebars of his motorcycle. That was the only tell of the excessive energy that was coiled up inside him like a rattlesnake primed to strike. In about five seconds he was going to fly off the handle and have a go at that car outright. David's rock steady presence kept him grounded but there was only so much Paul could take before he lost his cool. Act first think later, that was his unwritten credo.

They had a plan though. It was their only shot at taking down that fucker behind the wheel. They had to lure Lincoln away from the residential population and erase him from the face of the earth. No witnesses, no evidence. Even the car was going to get the Titanic treatment.

There would be no way to peg Lincoln's disappearance on them. Since Max was going to be kept in the dark, they would be in the clear. Paul was dead certain that he was not going to be the one to screw it up. Lincoln was finally going to get it tonight and Paul was going to be the one to give it to him. Nice and hard.

Marko glanced at their leader but David sat there with his arms crossed over his chest, lost in thought. He did not blink or move, hell he probably stopped breathing. Their fearless leader just stared right through the headlights while a thin tendril of cigarette smoke drifted from the lit cigarette between his lips.

David and Lincoln were the same age and spawned from the same maker. On paper they were evenly matched. They both knew it too. But who was the stronger vampire?

When it came down to brass tacks David knew that Lincoln would be the one to best him in a fair fight. David's strengths lay in his cruelty and cunning, his innate ability to manipulate the people and situations around him without giving the game away. But Lincoln was unstable at the best of times. He could not be controlled or directed by anyone other than his master. That made him the deadlier vampire. There was no reasoning with crazy.

David was not alone in this, not tonight. And he held the element of surprise. It would be close but David was determined to be the last man standing. Even if he had to cheat to do it.

The challenge would be in getting Lincoln to the predestined slaughtering ground. It was a good thing that David's mind was just as sharp as his fangs.

"What's he waitin' for man?"

Paul was not one to forgive or forget. None of the Lost Boys were.

"Wait for it."

"We wait any longer and it'll be daylight."

Paul growled low in throat as he shifted again. His teeth were beginning to ache. Meanwhile David was all sorts of cool as he took another slow drag on his cigarette.

"Just wait Paul. See what he does."

Lincoln sighed as the love of his undead life began to shudder from grille to taillights. He knew that feeling. Somebody was waking up and wanted to play. Well now, he wasn't one to disappoint.

"Oh, you must've been a beautiful baby 'case baby look at you now."

She loved it when he sang to her. Made her feel special.

"Hey now beautiful. Mona baby, oh I've missed ya. Good nap? Awww, I'm sorry girl. Y'know I'd never mean to hurt you. I love my beautiful girl. That's right sweetheart. Y'know what? We're going to make them pay for what they done. Those asshats won't know what killed them. Nobody hurts my best gal and lives."

Lincoln crooned as softly as a momma hen as he rubbed his hand along Baby's dashboard with genuine affection. Wouldn't you know it, the car's engine dropped in pitch and began to purr like a big steel pussycat.

"Atta girl baby! Who loves ya?"

David scowled. Something was off. He could feel it.

He took a final drag on his cigarette and flicked the smouldering butt onto the road. The bumper drew his attention. The chrome on that road monster was as buffed and shiny as ever. Not a single scratch on it. The shape was wrong. It had an upward tilt to it, like it was smiling.

"You got to be shitting me."

A cold chill of fear raced down David's spine. At the sound of his voice Marko and Paul instantly tensed as their bikes barked out at the much larger machine up ahead. They were as ready as they would ever be. All they needed was the word.

However, David was not ready to release the hounds just yet. Not until he knew for certain what they were now up against. Trust Lincoln to be crazy enough to drive a possessed car.

The Chevelle responded to Lincoln's simple gestures of affection. If the car had eyes they would have closed.

Paul and Marko looked at each other and then at David as the headlights suddenly dimmed.

"Ready for some fun?"

Lincoln clucked his tongue as he trailed his fingers all along the original leather upholstery. Under his cold touch the car was warm and alive. The heavy pulse of the powerful engine vibrated into his core like a substitute heartbeat. It felt like his car had woken up from a deep sleep. They were connected now, one and the same.

He did not have to be half out of his mind to question this. The Chevelle was very much alive. More than any machine. It was his Mona baby. His other half. The Chevy was just as much a part of him as he was to it.

The Chevelle was his baby and when she called the shots he listened.

"Wanna play with them boys now don't cha?"

Lincoln grabbed his seatbelt and buckled up. At the click of the latch the engine revved in excitement. The deep vibrations shook the car's stocky frame to the point where everything rattled.

Oh, baby really wanted to play.

"Atta girl! Let them hear it! Make 'em scream sweetheart!

Lincoln howled at the top of his lungs as the exhaust pipes answered in kind. He grabbed the clutch with his right hand and the instant his foot touched the accelerator Baby launched into action with headlights ablaze, spearing the Lost Boys like twin death rays. This time the light that illuminated the wayward sons of Santa Carla was a very deep and angry amber.

"MOVE!"

Paul and Marko were already in motion the second they heard the gears shift under that striped hood. They got out of the way by the skin of their teeth as the charger shot forward in an attempt to flatten them into the ground. That car moved faster than they had anticipated and it was a mad scramble to get their bikes back into position as the Chevelle fishtailed with a squeal of rubber and came around for a second pass.

This time they were ready for it.

"What's with the hot rod from hell?"

Marko had to shout above the roar of the engine to be heard as he expertly swung his motorcycle out of the Chevelle's way for a second time.

"Just stick to the plan!" David snapped as his Triumph growled in annoyance. Lincoln had made the first move but that was not enough.

David repositioned himself in the middle of the highway once again, too irresistible a target to ignore.

"Paul!"

On command Paul withdrew his trusty baseball bat from his saddlebags and made a fast pass at the car. The left rear taillight shattered on impact as he connected with expert ease. As expected Lincoln's snarl of anger sounded out from inside the cab while the Chevelle's tires kicked up clods of asphalt as it shot backward just as Paul veered away with inches to spare.

That chucklefuck was going to eat tread for that!

 _ **Vvvvvvvvvggggrrrrrrrr!**_

The Chevelle remembered Paul and made it very clear of what she thought of him. The entire car shook on its axis as the engine roared out in what could only be describe as pure animalistic fury.

"Roar all you want you metallic hell-bitch!"

Paul let out a wild whoop as he popped a wheelie for a split-second in celebration just so that Lincoln could kiss his ass or die trying. Like hyenas closing in on a lion, the Lost Boys bobbed and weaved ever closer to the car while keeping just enough distance so that they could get out of harms way. As big and nasty as the Chevelle was there was no chance it could out-maneuver the bikes on such a narrow stretch of road.

Power verses versatility, the car earned some new dents for its effort.

"Okay David. It's all yours."

Paul and Marko carefully backed off, the pitch of their engines high with exertion. The ring around the rosie routine had been played out. If that did not have Lincoln foaming at the mouth then nothing would.

David looked the car over as the wheels in his head churned. He quickly calculated the car's speed velocity to his own supernatural reflexes before he made his next move.

It was time to throw down the gauntlet.

David played up his part as he calmly reached behind him and pulled a magical denim rabbit out from under his trench coat. He held it up so that Lincoln could get a good look at it. A gust of wind from the approaching storm caught one of the patched sleeves and a few of the cuff charms tinkled in quiet submission.

Lincoln ripped off his glasses as his eyes narrowed into thin slits when he instantly recognized what David held. It was Sarah's jacket. Shredded and soaked in fresh blood.

Lincoln inhaled sharply and the scent that he picked off the garment brought out the devil in him. There was more than just Sarah's blood on that thing.

" _You_... _fucker_..."

Lincoln's fangs pierced his tongue as his lips peeled back in a wolfish snarl of unbridled malice. The fury that coursed through his veins spilled into the steering wheel that groaned under the strain of his white-knuckled death-grip

David's smirk was as cruel as his dead blue eyes as he shook out the jacket so that Lincoln could get a better view of his handiwork. It looked like the brat had put up a heck of a fight before he had taken her to task. David made certain that Lincoln knew it too.

A line had been crossed to get to him. David could try to fuck Lincoln over all he wanted. But to take it out on the kid? In that way? That was not an act of war. That was fucking personal.

The amber lighting that lit up the night darkened into a hellish red as the Chevelle bucked from the effort of being held back.

David savoured the moment before he threw Sarah's jacket onto the hood of the belligerent muscle car. It left a large streak of crimson across one of the white racing stripes.

"Oops."

And that did it.

In that instant the acidic stink of burnt rubber engulfed the vampires as a thick haze of white smoke billowed up from behind the Chevelle. David and the others could only gape as the four-thousand-pound muscle car reared up on them like a nightmare straight out of the gates of hell. That monster of a machine rocked back onto its rear tires as it barrelled forward with supernatural speed.

Marko yelped as the damn thing crashed down on top of him like a gigantic Godzilla foot. He managed to avoid being crushed under its weight but his bike paid the price. A sickening crunch made him wince but he had to keep moving or else his skull would meet a similar fate. And there was no coming back from that.

"Here man!"

Paul shouted through the dense smoke as Marko rolled out from under the car and bolted toward Paul's voice. The guttural roar of Baby's engine sounded out behind him. Marko never booked it so quickly as he did right then. He could feel the vibrations from the engine in his bones as it came up behind him. Fear suddenly took on a new meaning and it came in the form of American muscle. There was no time to get airborne. The car almost had him as a hood ornament.

Paul reached out and grabbed Marko by the back of his jacket as a whisper of chrome kissed Marko's backside. Marko was on the back of the bike as Paul palmed the throttle and got them the hell away from that car. Both vampires were more than a little rattled when the red headlights zeroed in on them.

"Go, go, go!"

David shot across the front of the Chevelle and circled the Triumph around in order to keep Lincoln's attention on him and give Paul and Marko a chance to bail out. The ruse worked. David now had one hell of a tough time trying to keep enough distance between himself and the car because despite its bulky frame and heavy body the Chevelle almost reduced him to a skid-mark.

"Shit!"

David planted his foot down and hauled the Triumph out of the way. He could feel the heat coming off the car in waves as it flashed past in yet another attempt to reduce him to road kill. David could not shake the feeling that the car itself that was after him now and not just Lincoln. The Chevelle seemed to anticipate David's moves. Maybe he was crazy but David could have sworn that car could think for itself.

No Chevy that big could ever come close to outmaneuvering his Triumph but that car just kept on coming. No matter what he did that car was right there, in his way. Again and again and again.

The cat and mouse routine played itself out until David could not afford to wait any longer. Cursing a blue streak under his breath he took off after the others. He did not bother to check over his shoulder as he banked hard to the right and jackknifed a turn that sent the pursuing car careening to in other lane as Lincoln tried to mirror the move and lost ground doing so.

David allowed himself a rare smile as he kept his eyes on the road and lowered his head over the handlebars in order to make himself as small a target as possible. He was not going to leave anything to chance and as Lincoln chased him across the Santa Carla border David managed to keep one league ahead of him as he turned at random and took off in another direction.

"What you playin' at Dave?" Lincoln muttered to himself as he hunkered down in the bucket seat and went about trying to anticipate David's next move.

The deadly game of bumper tag took them toward the industrial district. David hoped that Lincoln was too distracted to recognize where they were going and for once luck was on his side. All Lincoln seemed to care about at the moment was reducing David into a bloody pile of mulch.

"Where y'going Davey Boy!" Lincoln snarled as he shifted into third. The headlights engulfed David as the chrome bumper inched closer and closer to the Triumph's back tire.

David took one look at the dwindling distance between his bike and Lincoln's car and pulled a sharp right that just about sent him into a brick wall. If he had not been a vampire he would have been dead three miles back.

Lincoln matched the move with better success and David was forced to basket weave left and right to avoid being run off the road entirely.

They were coming down to the wire. David had all of his attention focused on the two run-down metalworks warehouses that loomed up ahead. Marko and Paul had made it with seconds to spare. They were waiting on the rooftops, hidden from sight.

All David had to do now was get the Chevelle between those two buildings and it was game over.

"C'mon you animal. Take the bait!"

David narrowed his eyes against the stinging wind as he opened the throttle just enough to gain a few precious feet. Unable to resist the challenge Lincoln matched David's speed and burned rubber to get on top of his dearly loathed blood brother.

Death tasted like dirt and motor oil. It was something Lincoln was going to ram down David's throat by the time the tires of his motorcycle stopped spinning. Lincoln's predatory stare glinted with that harsh promise as the Chevelle picked up her heels just a little bit more to taste Triumph steel. Lincoln did not register the two buildings on either side of him as he roared on down the narrow one-lane side-street. The trap was sprung without him realizing it.

"Asta la vista Fucker!"

Paul and Marko plummeted from the sky like a pair of thunderbolts as they flew straight for the car. The white racing stripes on the car acted like as bull's-eye as the two vampires zeroed in and...

 **WHAM!**

There was not enough time to scream as they collided into each other head-on. Cracked skulls and tangled limbs landed in a painful heap. They had missed their mark. By a meter.

 _ **VVVVVVRRRRRGGGGGGGUUUURRRGGGGG!**_

Lincoln was not the only one driving Miss Mona. The Chevelle, having sensed the attack, slammed its breaks and skidded to a deadman's stop just shy of the two vampires. Lincoln had not expected this. He would have gone straight through the windshield had it not been for the seatbelt that kept him secured behind the wheel. The momentum threw him forward and he smacked his head against the steering wheel with serious force. Blood splattered from the forehead collision. It was a hard enough hit to knock him senseless.

Dazed and bloodied, Lincoln slumped over the wheel, his fiery eyes glazed and unseeing. No one witnessed the clutch move on its own. The Chevelle growled before it threw itself into reverse. The gas pedal hit the floor as if stomped on by an invisible foot.

David shot a glance over his shoulder in time to see the Chevelle take off down a side street and vanish behind a derelict building.

That was not part of the plan.

"Oh for fuck's sake!"

David swore as he cut his speed and swung his bike around. How the hell did he get away?

"What the hell was that!"

David was screaming at peak volume as the Triumph skidded to a halt beside Paul and Marko.

"It was right here! Right here! How the FUCK did you SCREW THIS UP!"

"Owwww my nads..."

Paul answered with an agonizing groan as he rolled onto his back, curled up in a fetal position and clutching the family jewels.

"Dammit!" Marko hissed as he gingerly touched his right arm. His shoulder was dislocated and cracked in a number of places. "Hell Paul, your head's a freaking wrecking ball."

"Huuuuh?"

David's eyes flashed in warning. It had been perfect. He had set it up beautifully and these idiots went to clown town.

How the hell could anyone miss a car as big as a god-damn speedboat?

"So help me god if you two don't get your asses moving I will kill you myself. Need I remind you what will happen if Max finds out about this?! You two fucking blew it!"

"Yaaaaah!" Marko yelped in pain when David hauled him roughly to his feet by his injured arm. Swearing every colour of the rainbow, David wrenched the arm back and snapped the joint back into place with more force than was necessary.

"Oh shut up!" David snarled at Marko before he grabbed Paul and yanked him upward. "Get up in the air and find him. If he leaves Santa Carla we're screwed. I don't care how you do it but you are going to find him. Now! MOVE!"

Despite the epic amount of pain they were in Paul and Marko knew better than to say anything in their defence. They had fucked up royally. Now that Lincoln was onto them it was going to even harder to take him down.

Without a word the two hightailed it to where they had stashed Paul's bike. With Marko's motorcycle reduced into scrap metal and Dwayne out of commission they were now grasping at the short hairs. Clearly this classified as an emergency.

Paul stayed grounded and took a side street that was little more than an alley while Marko picked up the scent of the Chevelle and took off after the car from the air. They were in the industrial district and there were a number of places that a car like the Chevelle could hide in. They had to move fast as they searched every nook and shadowed cranny for the car. They just hoped that Lincoln was still in the area because if he had taken off for the border there was no way that they would be able to catch him in time.

Unbeknownst to them the Chevelle had other ideas. Instead of making a break for it good old Mona had back itself into an empty warehouse that had at one time been used to store freighter cargo. It killed the ignition, as the Chevelle's tell-tale growl could be heard a mile off. It was too soon to make a play for the main streets and until Lincoln came to his senses the car was going to sit quietly and bide its time.

The game was just getting started and the Chevelle loved to play with its food.


	26. We Didn't Start The Fire

It is time to finally answer that fascinating question...who dies first? (drum roll...cymbal crash) What? You thought I was going to spoil the surprise? Read the chapter to find out! But it is one, one dead vampire! Ah ha ha ha!

Chapter Theme Song: _We Didn't Start The Fire_ by Billy Joel

* * *

It took a couple of passes but eventually Marko zeroed in on a building that seemed suspect. It was dead quiet. Nothing seemed to move in the shadows as he came to land silently behind the building. Caution was his guide as he carefully took stock of the situation. These warehouses were a perfect killing ground for the experienced predator. Marko had to be on his guard least he end up becoming the hunted in this sideways scheme.

Lincoln was hurt. He could track the scent of blood well enough. Was it serious? Was is a trap? Where was Paul?

"Marko…hey…Marko!"

Marko stilled before he sunk into a fighter's crouch. He stayed quiet as he waited for the expected attack. Only it never came.

"Marko…"

It was Paul's voice. He was sure of it. Only it was coming from inside the hollowed out warehouse. Paul must have bet him to the punch and gotten there first.

Marko did not respond right away. He carefully tracked the sadistic cackle that came from within the building. He knew Paul. Knew him well enough to know when he was in his element. By the sound of it Paul was having a grand old time in there.

"Paul?"

"Over here man. I got the son-of-a-bitch cornered. I can't believe David was actually worried about this jag-off. Ha! What a patsy. You gotta see this."

Marko stayed low as he prowled around the building, looking for a way into the place. A man-sized hole in the steel siding was one way in. With some careful maneuvering and fancy footwork, Marko managed to slip through the jagged hole without disturbing the discarded refuse that littered the floor.

He waited, crouched low and out of sight, to see if could spot Paul. Another chuckle drifted through the building's interior and Marko was finally able to track it back to the source.

"Where are you?"

Marko did not like this. It felt off somehow.

"Over here! Dude, you won't believe this."

Paul's voice beckoned off to the left.

Marko stuck to the shadows as he maneuvered his way through the maze of rusted junk that was piled in the corners of the building. Old pieces of heavy machinery and storage containers provided the most cover but when he got to the end of the line he spotted the distinctive outline of the muscle car behind a stack of oil drums.

Paul's laughter echoed throughout the building.

Taking it one silent step at a time Marko carefully approached the Chevelle from the rear. Without a clear source of light it was difficult to make out if Lincoln's form was in the front seat. He knew better than to get too close to that road monster. Not after what it tried to do to him.

"Oh shit man!"

Marko tensed, claws out and fangs bared, as he whirled around to be greeted by nothing but shadows. He fully expected Lincoln to rush him head on but after a full minute of anticipation, nothing happened.

Where the hell were they?

Another bout of laughter bounced off the walls. It was impossible to pinpoint an exact location due to the wide open acoustics of the place. Sounds just bounced back and forth, louder than necessary.

"Paul, cut the shit! Where are you?"

Marko glanced over at the Chevelle to see if there were any tell-tale signs of a struggle. Only then did he realize that the car was empty.

"Dude you gotta look up man!"

Marko did as Paul instructed but saw nothing but darkness and empty shadows. The faint fluttering of a pair of leathery wings was the only tell-tale sign of life as a small brown bat zagged its way toward a hole in the roof.

"Heh, made you look."

Marko frowned.

"Wh-"

A thick coil of an industrial metal cargo chain cut off Marko's words at the source. Rusted steel crushed his windpipe with a sure yank as the pressure of the solid links around his neck took care of the rest. Unable to make sound Marko thrashed against the unbreakable hold as the chain pulled back and hoisted him off his feet. He hooked his claws into the links in an attempt to loosen them but that just made matters worse.

"Hey there sport! Thanks for stoppin' on by. You just made my night that much better. And I thank you for that. I really do."

Blood ran down Lincoln's face in rivulets from the deep gash across his forehead. The pale gleam of bone could be seen right above his left eye.

" _I can't believe you fell for that! Oldest trick in the damn book man! What is wrong with you guys? Didn't Max teach you anythin'?"_

It was Paul's voice. Identical in tone and pitch. But it was Lincoln who spoke the words with malice on his lips.

Marko wheezed as gravity worked to dig the chain in deeper. The harder he fought to free himself the tighter the chain pulled until there nothing else he could do but hang there and fight to stay conscious.

Lincoln rubbed the knuckles of his right hand with his left as he watched Marko wriggle and twitch like a landed trout. There was so much potential in this. If he had all night he would not be able to get through half of what his mind was spinning. This scene was like a blank canvas, just full of possibilities. It almost hurt to think of all the missed opportunities. But tick tock he was on the clock and there were far bigger fish to fry.

"Pity."

A bead of blood dripped off the tip of his nose as he sucked his teeth and tilted his head. What to do, what to do.

"Hey Mona baby, how's about I have this one? He don't look your type."

Marko tried to lash out at Lincoln when the deranged vampire go to close. All that did was make Lincoln chuckle when he grabbed Marko's foot and gave his leg a vicious twist. Something popped and Marko jerked in pain.

"You keep it up. Do your old man proud. He'd want you to go out this way."

Lincoln patted Marko's leg before he headed toward where the Chevelle was parked. The chain that was twisted around Marko's neck hung from a running track that ran across the ceiling of the warehouse. Lincoln just whistled a jaunty tune, a Billy Joel chart topper by the sound of it, as he pulled Marko along.

"Now, tell me if I'm wrong, but I can't help to think that old Max has no idea of what you boys have been up to tonight. Am I right? Shoo, course I am. So it's not like he knows that any of this is goin' down. Which means, he's not gonna show up at the last second to save your skin. Ain't that a shame. We're just gonna have to figure out a way to let him know. Now don't you worry, I got a few ideas that'll really get his goat. You're gonna love them."

The chain snagged in its tread and the sudden stop jerked Marko out of Lincoln's grasp. The struggling vampire swung back and forth like a colourful pendulum as Lincoln paused and tracked his movements with his eyes.

"Alright then. If that's the way you want it."

Lincoln let Marko swing as he unclasped his Bowie knife from his hip and ran a thumb pad along the honed edge. Satisfied, he moved from side to side in time with Marko's momentum as he swayed in close and forced a halt with the tip of his knife.

"Now, don't take this personal but this is the end of the line for you boy. And it's gonna hurt. Worse than you ever thought a body could stand. But just know something. Whatever happens, it could always be worse. Trust me, I know. Ain't that a comforting thought?"

The big knife flashed as Marko's eyes widened in fear. A stream of blood turned into a free-flowing river as the blade's razor edge slipped along his torso over and over again. Shallow cuts turned deep that danced along his rib cage. When the blood was flowing freely Lincoln pulled Marko in close. He held the captive vampire's gaze as his fangs found a sweet spot just under a floating rib. Ivory spikes slipped through muscle tissue and tore in deep. If Marko could have screamed he would have, long and hard.

In a last ditch effort for survival Marko slashed at Lincoln's head with his broken claws but Lincoln had expected the move. He unhooked his teeth and smiled as the Bowie bit back. In two deft flicks of his arm Marko's wrists were slashed in the proper way. The blood poured out of him and Lincoln went to task.

"God that's some good shit." Lincoln belched up blood once he tipped his limit. He had bled Marko nearly dry and it showed. Those swoon-inducing baby blues were glazed and lifeless while the rest of him resembled a week old corpse that had been left to dry out in the New Mexico desert.

"Not bad for a Cali vintage, I gotta say."

Lincoln ran the back of his hand across his mouth before he wiped his knife clean on the mis-matched patches of Marko's trademark biker jacket. Sheathing the big Bowie, Lincoln sniffed hard and gave his head a hard shake to get this runaway thoughts in order. His fingers grazed his forehead but here was nothing there to make him wince. The wound had healed itself in record time.

Lincoln rocked back on his heels when the blood rushed to his head. His veins were humming from the infusion of immortal blood. It was like injecting nitrous oxide and cocaine into his arms, an epic high that sped up time itself. Intense did not even come close.

A blood rush of this strength would have sent a less experienced vampire into outer space but Lincoln was an old pro when it came to riding out a spiked high. He rode the bull with spurs out until the world stopped spinning like a Tilt-A-Whirl. When he could see straight he was on the floor laughing like a hyena with a head-wound.

"Gotta thank you for that one. It's been years since I've had a buzz that good."

Shaking hands coaxed a fresh Cuban cigar out of a pocket in his jacket lining. It took a few tries before he could get his fingers to work properly, but the lighter eventually gave up its flame. A few deep drags on the Havana special calmed the tremors enough for him to stand.

He exhaled a heavy cloud of fragrant leaves as he studied the withered vampire that rotated slowly on the end of the chain. He was drained to the point of no return but he wasn't dead. Not yet. There was still a little something extra in there had that to be extinguished for good. It was a small mercy that Lincoln had bled him out because the dented can of lighter fluid that he pulled out of the Chevelle's glove compartment could only mean one thing.

There was just enough in the can to give the patched jacket a decent soaking, one that would feed a flame easy. Lincoln blew a stream of smoke into Marko's slack face to see if there would be a reaction. The movement was faint but there most certainly was a twitch. Ah well, his capability for compassion was non-existent right then so tough luck buttercup.

The smouldering end of the cigar set Marko ablaze in seconds. Vampire blood was a great accelerant and in no time at all the smell of burning flesh filled the warehouse.

Lincoln took in a lungful and smiled. Nothing better than the smell of barbecue and a cigar. All he needed now was a nice single-malt whiskey and David's head on a pike and he could die happy.

That would be something, wouldn't it?

Lincoln snapped out of his thoughts when the sound of a motorcycle drew close to the warehouse. That was not a Triumph's engine, so it could only be the pothead himself. Right on time for a change.

"Your turn babes. Delivered fresh and baked for your pleasure. Lucky girl."


	27. I Think We're Alone Now

**Story Update:** July has always been Lost Boys month. With the film's anniversary coming up on the 31st (a very auspicious day for many reasons), I will be posting the remaining chapters to this story in the upcoming days. After all these years, Fighter finally gets her ending. So buckle up and enjoy the ride!

Chapter Theme Song: "I Think We're Alone Now" by Tiffany

* * *

"Edgar, this is a bad idea!" Ian hissed between clenched teeth as he gamely clung to the old wooden railing. It was the only thing that prevented him from plunging into the crashing surf below. Hanging off the side of a cliff, on a rickety staircase, was not his idea of a search and rescue.

"Shut up and keep moving." Edgar barked as he shone his flashlight in Ian's face.

There was only thirty minutes before the tide came back. Thirty minutes to get in, get the package, and get out. The success of the whole operation depending on them sticking to that time frame.

"I'm trying." Ian swallowed hard. He could feel the stomach acid creep up his throat and it made him want to puke on Edgar's combat boots. Ian didn't like heights. Not even little heights. If it were up to him, he would turn tail and book it to solid ground where it was safe. But there was a very determined Frog at his back to prevent that from ever happening.

"Quit stalling. You did it before." Edgar growled. He did not dare shove his way in front because the rotten stairs did not look stable enough to hold the weight of two people at once.

"There wasn't a raging storm on top of us before! And I wasn't leading." Ian breathed in deeply before he put one foot forward. The wooden step creaked as he put his full weight on it, but it held. One down, countless more to go.

"Well, now you are. So man up and keep moving." Edgar tapped Ian between the shoulder blades with his flashlight. Below them, the rough waves slammed against the rocks with such force that Edgar could feel the sea spray seeping into his clothes.

"Shove a sock in it, Edgar." Ian wiped his hand across his forehead. He kept his eyes forward so that he wouldn't see the churning pool of black waiting to swallow him up below. "Don't look down. Just don't look down."

Edgar snorted as he kept the snail's pace while Ian inched his way down the staircase, one creaking step at a time.

"Tell me again why we're back here? We almost died the last time." Ian shivered as a numbing gust of wind blew off the Pacific and made his teeth chatter like castanets.

"It's eleven o'clock. The vampires won't be inside. This is the only chance we have to find your friend." Edgar reminded Ian for the third time that night as he shot a glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was following them.

The staircase was empty. That was both a good and bad. David and his cronies were not around to kill them, but Alan and Tory had yet to arrive. The clock was ticking, and Edgar was forced to make a decision. Go through with the plan, or call it off?

"How can you be sure?" Ian yelped as he wrapped with both arms around the railing as the staircase began to rock dangerously from the force of the wind.

"You just have to trust me." Edgar's reply was grim as he braced himself and waited until the wind died down.

"Trust you? After what happened the last time? You're joking."

Edgar glared down at Ian with an expression that most teenagers his age did not possess the ability to summon.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" The edge in Edgar's voice was unmistakable.

"It's hard to tell under all that makeup." Ian jumped the last two steps and landed awkwardly on the wooden platform that was little more than a pile of splinters lashed together with old barb wire. His knees were still knocking as he unhooked his flashlight from his belt. It took him two tries before he could get the beam of light to full power.

"Listen you," Edgar growled as he stomped down the staircase. When his boots hit the platform, he roughly grabbed Ian by the front of his leather jacket and yanked him forward so that they were an inch a part. "I've had enough of your stupid wise-cracks. You're the one who wanted to rescue this girl, so you're the one who's going to help me find her. Keep it up and I'll leave you here. Maybe the bloodsuckers will find you less annoying if you're dead. And it's not make-up, it's camo. Got it?"

"Okay!" Ian brought his hands up in a show of peace. "It's war paint."

For a moment both teens stood in silence with their flashlights trained on the large mouth of the cave that loomed before them like an overly-creepy Boardwalk attraction. Only this wasn't a shits-and-giggles tourist trap, this was for real. If something popped out of the shadows, it would do more than just scare them.

"Can you at least tell me why we didn't try this during the day? That would have made a hell of a lot more sense than doing this now." Ian triple-checked his pockets with his free hand to make sure that he had the garlic bombs and wooden stake that Edgar had provisioned him with. His fingers brushed the small pointed cross that the Frogs had given him a few days earlier. Ian wondered if Tory was all right. She had been acting strange all day. Any time he asked her if she was all right, she just brush it off as nothing.

She told him that she was tired. Somehow, he didn't believe her.

"They would've expected it." Edgar unsheathed a newly stake and kept his flashlight pointed directly in front of him. "This way we can do what we need to do without them knowing."

"Yeah, because who in their right mind would pull the same stupid stunt twice?" Ian muttered out-loud.

"Exactly."

Ian shook his head as he motioned for Edgar to lead the way. Ian had gone down the staircase first, so Edgar could brave the cave like the commando he thought he was. "Well, here goes nothing...again."

Edgar picked his way over the rocks, his flashlight focused on a trail of garbage that they had followed the last time they had braved the cave. A cold chill rippled down Ian's spine as he followed the Frog into the dark unknown. It felt like the Grim Reaper had just joined the party.

"Don't fear the Reaper." Ian swallowed hard.

"What's that?"

"N-nothing." Ian's teeth chattered as he shivered. God, it was freaking cold down there.

The bright beam of Edgar's high-powered flashlight swept left to right in an attempt to located anything suspicious or potentially lethal.

"Feel that?" Ian asked in a hushed voice as he quickly shot a final glance over his shoulder. There was some sort of presence near them. It smelt...fishy.

Edgar brought his fist up in the classic "don't move" motion as he quickly scanned the cave walls for a sign of anything out-of-the-ordinary. "They know we're here."

"What!?" Ian croaked as he tripped over the damp rocks to get to Edgar's side, eliminating as much space between the two of them as he could. _"What does that mean?"_

Edgar wrenched his arm out of Ian's panicked death grip.

"It means that they put up a sensor. Just keep your mouth shut Mary-Sue. We're safe enough, for now."

"How do you know that? We just rang their paranormal doorbell."

"Because, moron, if they were home, we'd be dead by now. There's no way they'd let us get this close a second time. David's smart, but not that smart."

"You say that," Ian was not convinced, "but they could very well still be inside. Waiting for us. You don't know for sure."

A muscle in Edgar's jaw twitched as he ground his teeth together.

"Listen Einstein, it would be better to take us out in the open rather than endanger their nest, not when one of their own is seriously injured thanks to your nutjob friend. So if we made it this far, chances are the coast is clear. If we had tried doing this during the day, it would have blown up in our faces. Even a sleeping bloodsucker is dangerous. And we wouldn't have the element of surprise."

"If you say so."

"I know so." Edgar picked his way across the uneven rubble while Ian stalked close behind, stepping in his footprints.

"There's nothing safe about any of this." Ian swallowed as he shied past what he thought was a pile of bleached bones but after a second look, it turned out to be driftwood.

Edgar silently agreed.

"Alright, the main cavern is up ahead. Keep your flashlight up and check the ceiling. I'll do a scope of the floor. Stay low, and will you hold that stake properly?" Edgar knocked Ian's arm up with a nudge of his elbow. Now was not the time for sloppy showmanship. They had a potential suck monkey victim to rescue.

Moving in formation, the two crouched and scurried forward. Ian hovered behind Edgar as the Frog mentally went through his environmental check-list. The stink coming from the main area was as potent as ever, although he was not certain if he could make out the tell-tale buzzing of flies over the crashing surf at their backs.

"Should we light a barrel or something?" Ian whispered out of the corner of his mouth when Edgar braced his back against the rock wall and carefully peered into the cavern. Dust motes drifted past the bright beams of artificial light that lit up the twisted arms of the old chandelier that sat in the bone-dry fountain basin.

Edgar didn't respond as he squinted hard as his flashlight passed over something that looked human shape. Could it be? Nope, false alarm.

"Edgar?"

"We're not going in without back-up. Gimme the radio." Edgar killed the beam and held out his hand expectantly.

Ian's reaction time was not the greatest, but he handed over the two-way radio without dropping anything. Had it been Alan, the communication device would have been primed and ready. Ian was not cut out to be a vampire hunter. He was just too slow.

"This is Frogspawn to Toadjam. Frogspawn to Toadjam, over." Edgar put out the call as quietly as he could but to Ian's ears it was too loud. Edgar waited for the call-back, but static was the only sound that came out of the two-way radio.

"Toadjam, are you there?" Edgar growled as he released the call-back button.

"What's wrong?" Ian asked. His flashlight illuminated the tense expression on the Frog's face. Edgar squinted sharply and muttered a muted growl as he shoved the flashlight out of the way so that the light was directed back into the cavern.

"Toadjam, do you copy?" Quit fooling around and answer damn it."

"You don't think something happened do you?" Ian worried his lower lip as he put to voice what they both were thinking.

"Shut up." Edgar didn't want to hear it.

"But..."

"Shut up, Ian!"

The bite in Edgar's voice was sharp enough to cut through the large cavern and rebound back to them.

"Lil' bitchy there, Edgar. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were worried."

Both Ian and Edgar jolted a mile in opposite directions as two ice-cold hands grabbed the backs of their necks. Ian dropped the flashlight and swung his stake with both hands. He had every intention of ramming it into a body part while Edgar swore a string of words that would have made General Patton proud.

"Gotcha!"

That voice was all-too familiar.

"Jesus, Tory! What the hell?" Ian lowered the stake and ran his fingers through his hair. Every strand was standing on end. "You nearly gave us freaking heart attacks!"

"Speak for yourself." Edgar snarled as he shot Tory his best scowl and adjusted his equipment vest.

Instead of coming through with some sort of snarky remark, Tory just laughed. She almost made them wet themselves and they all knew it.

"Where's my brother?" Edgar demanded as Tory plunked herself down between them, right after she hip-checked Ian. "And where's your flashlight?"

Tory jerked her thumb over her shoulder. Sure enough, Alan slowly emerged from the gloom. He moved cautiously because his progress was hampered by the fact that he only had a zippo lighter to see by.

"G. I. Shmoe dropped them into the ocean. It's a good thing that I have excellent night vision or else this little game of yours would be a bust." Tory replied, not bothering to keep the smug-as-hell look off her face.

"I did not!" Alan retorted before he slipped on a smooth piece of limestone.

" _Sure, you_ didn't. They just launched themselves off the cliff." She peered into the cave, missing the suspicion in Edgar's eyes as he studied her with a guarded look.

"Wasn't my fault! The step gave way." Alan grumbled hotly when he finally managed to reach the group. He sat back on his heels and pocketed the lighter. "Storm's getting worse Edgar. The waves tried to sweep us away, hence no flashlights. I don't think we have as much time as we need to do this."

Ian moved over as Alan shook himself like a dog, water droplets flying everywhere. Tory seemed to have gotten off lightly. Barely damp, despite all the rain and sea water that dripped from Alan.

"Whatever you say." Tory snickered as she palmed a piece of grape flavoured chewing gum from her back pocket and popped it into her mouth. A second later, she spat it out with a grimace. "Ugh. Nasty. Must have gone off in the heat today."

"Sure." Edgar frowned and motioned for Alan to join him. They couldn't afford another major screw-up, so they needed to go about this carefully. Despite what he said earlier, Edgar did not think that the cave was empty. The injured vampire had to be holed up in there, somewhere. There was also another matter that he wanted to clarify with Alan, so while they put their heads together, Ian and Tory were left crouched at the entrance.

"You feeling alright?" Ian asked as Tory picked at her teeth with her pinky nail.

"Never better. Why?" She flicked her heavily hair sprayed bangs out of her eyes.

Ian took a moment to look her over closely and shrugged. "You didn't look so hot today. I thought that maybe-"

"That maybe I wasn't up to do this again?"

Ian shook his head.

"No. No that's not what I was going to-" He protested but Tory cut him off as she snagged him in an iron-tight headlock.

"Aw, you're worried about me." She chuckled as she ran her knuckles over his skull, messing up his already flighty hair.

"Tory!" Ian tried worm free, but Tory's grip was unbreakable. When did she get to be so strong?

"You're cute when you worry so much." Tory grinned and planted a lip-stick kiss on the crown of his head. "Mmmm, you smell good."

Tory buried her nose in his hair and sniffed hard.

"Ow. Tory. I need to breathe." Ian squirmed when her grip around his neck began to tighten.

"Right you two. Hands off each other until we finish this thing. Here's the plan." Edgar announced when he and his brother crept back toward the top of the ramp. Tory nuzzled Ian's ear before she let him go.

"A plan. Will it work this time?" She asked innocently. When the same withered look was shot at her, she just laughed. "Somebody's touchy about failure."

"What do we do?" Ian was quick to interject. They needed everyone on board to pull this off. Thankfully, the Frogs were on the same brainwave and ignored Tory's smart remark.

"We all go in. I lead, you two in the middle, Alan at the rear. Stakes out at all times. Keep your flashlights trained on any large dark patch. The sooner we get in, the sooner we find your friend, the sooner we leave. Any questions?" Edgar asked.

"Uh yeah. I've got two. One, some of us don't have flashlights anymore. Two, what if she's already dead?" Tory asked as she rose to her feet and pulled Ian up with her.

Edgar had a few things that he would have liked to say to her, but his brother beat him to it.

"If she's dead then there's nothing we can do. That's the best-case scenario."

"Best case? Then what's the worst?" Ian asked, despite not wanting to know the answer.

"Worst case would be if they turned your friend into one of them. If that's what happened, then we're going to have to exterminate her. It's the right thing to do." Alan told them as he fingered the brace of water guns that were strapped to his belt. Earlier that day, he had hunted down and purchased the most expensive soaker pistols he could find. These things could drown an airborne bee with a ten-foot firing range.

"You two have some major issues." Tory took the small flashlight that Edgar offered her and clicked it on. "So, are we going to do this thing or just stand here until sunrise to see what happens?"

"You could always go in first, as bait." Edgar shot back as he adjusted his bandana and began his decent down the precarious ramp. Tory rolled her eyes and followed, the beam from her flashlight bounced all over the place. Ian zipped up his leather bomber jacket, but when he started to follow Tory, Alan held him back.

"What?" Ian asked as Alan's eyes followed Tory's silhouette as she followed Edgar into the cavern.

"Be careful around her Ian. There's something funny going on. I have a bad feeling." He murmured in Ian's ear so that his voice would not echo off the walls.

"Bad? Like how bad?" Ian frowned. So, he was not the only one who thought Tory had been acting stranger than usual that day.

"I'm not sure. But gut is never wrong. Just stay sharp down there." Alan motioned Ian to go down next.

The group did their best to remain silent as they prowled about the cave, poking around to see what they could find. There was no sign of life, with the exception of a few cooing pigeons that roosted in a large crack in the wall.

No rats. No cockroaches. No fresh blood. Just a bunch of surf junk, tools, weird looking stains, and mouldy Chinese take-out containers.

Ian's eyes constantly shifted to Tory's back when she wasn't looking. She seemed normal. Hyper and mouthy as always. But during the day, she hadn't been the usual life of the party. Maybe the vampires had more of an effect on her than they did on everyone else. It was probably the stress. Tory acted tough as hell, but Ian knew she was worried. David made it very clear that he wanted her to rip her throat out the first chance he got. That had to freak out even her by now.

They all needed sleep. Food, that wasn't out of a take-out container. And fun. To spend a few days having nothing to do with the paranormal would set things back to how they should be.

After combing through the cavern from top to bottom, they came up with nothing. Edgar took stock of their surroundings before he quietly motioned toward the large fissure that looked like it could be a tunnel. Four beams of light zeroed in on the gap in the wall. Three of them nodded in agreement while Ian shook his head.

"Just stick with me." Tory mouthed as she grabbed Ian by the sleeve of his jacket and dragged him along with her.

Cautiously, they crept into the unknown in single file, each one standing within touching distance from the other. There was no denying this was more than creepy. Unlike the main cave, the temperature in the tunnel was far below normal. It was cold enough that their breaths came out in clouds of vapor.

There was no doubting, this place was prime vampire territory.

While they were busy trying to not bump into each other, no one was aware of a pair of hellish eyes that blinked in the darkness behind them.

"Hey Edgar. Over there. Is that a room?" Tory whispered as she poked Edgar with her flashlight.

"It's not a room." He whispered back but Tory just poked him again. This time a little harder.

"Oh yeah? Well, there's a bed in it. If there's a bed, then it's a room." Tory hissed in his ear and nudged him in the direction of the off-shoot.

"What bed? I can't see anything." Ian squinted as his flashlight bounced off the rocky arch that could have been the doorway. To him it just looked like a big old crack. One that they had no business poking around in.

"You're as blind as a bat." Tory sighed as she pulled him forward. Alan followed at a cautious pace, constantly scouring the shadows for any unexpected surprises. He rotated on the spot, but there was nothing but empty space and cold stone around them.

"What are you waiting for?" Tory asked as Edgar stood in the entranceway, blocking it completely. Edgar brought his hand up and motioned for everyone to be quiet. He pointed into the small cave and raised his stake in a menacing fashion.

There was something in there.

Alan pushed Ian and Tory to the side, making sure they were out of the way, before he joined his brother. With a nod, Edgar clicked off his flashlight and unhooked a water pistol filled with holy water while Alan brought his flashlight up and shone it over his brother's shoulder while he swapped his stake for one of his new shooters. Without a sound, the two Frogs entered the small nook. Tory was right. There was an old brass bed frame shoved into the far corner. On it, they could just make out a human-shaped outline.

"Is that the one I shot?" Tory hissed as she poked her head into the cave. She did not enter it because the Frogs waved her back. They had to see if the figure was still alive. If not, they would make sure that the person was dead and stayed that way. This could very well be their first vampire kill. Or dead body.

Ian shuffled on the spot, his heart pounding, totally caught up in the suspense. Full of nerves, he tucked his arms close to his chest and blew on his hands. God, it was freezing.

"Is it just me, or did it suddenly get colder in here?" Ian tugged on the back of Tory's panther painted jacket. His hand was beginning to shake. He could have sworn his fingertips looked blue. "Tory. Aren't you cold?"

"No." She didn't bother to look at him. Her attention was fixed on the Frog Brothers.

Ian rubbed his hands together and took a step back. As he did so his heel came down on something that was not the cave floor.

Ian looked down and shone his flashlight on his foot. Okay, there was his foot. And there was a large scuffed black and white Converse running shoe. A shoe that was, in fact, occupied.

"T-t-t-t-t-," All that came out was a wheeze.

Ian was trying very hard not to start screaming his head off.

"What?" Tory grumbled, still eyeing the Frog brothers as they moved around the bedframe.

"H-h-h-h-he-lp."

"For the last time, Ian what is it?" Tory turned around and her eyes went directly over Ian's head. "Oh. Shit.'

In the darkness behind Ian loomed a tall, hungry, and thoroughly pissed-off vampire. It would be an understatement to say that Dwayne was anything less than murderous right then.

"Tory. It's. Behind. Me."

"Ian don't scream. Look at me. Don't move." The beam of Tory's flashlight shone directly into the dark-haired vampire's eyes but all that did was illuminate the murderous intentions that lined every ridge of his demonic visage. The reflective pupils dilated into pin-pricks as those hellfire eyes shifted and locked onto Tory.

"You know I can understand you, right?" Dwayne's voice was a velvety jaguar's growl, and his fangs gleamed wetly in the spotlight.

While Tory was staring down Dwayne, Alan had his own flashlight trained on Sarah's face. She was ghost pale and chained to the bedframe. "That's her. Do you think she's one of them?"

She had to be a vampire. Who would bother to chain a corpse to a bed?

"Only one way to make sure." Edgar raised his water pistol and took aim.

"FROGS!" Tory's shriek was outmatched by a vicious roar that was loud enough to wake the dead.

The Frog Brothers jumped when they heard Tory scream.

"Uh, hey guys."

Sarah bolted upright on the bed; her hands shackled to the bedposts. She looked at the two camo-wearing teens, just as surprised to see them as they were to see her.

"Vampire!" Alan yelped. "You're one of them."

"Look, I can explain, just don't freak out. But what are you doing here?" Sarah asked before a gut-wrenching scream from Ian made the three of them turn in the direction of the cave doorway.

"FROGS! GET YOUR BUTTS OUT HERE _NOW!"_ Tory's voice echoed through the cave. "HEY! GET YOUR DAMN HANDS OFF OF HIM! HE'S MINE!"

Dwayne's roar of vampiric rage made Sarah shudder when she heard it.

"That's Dwayne. You have to get out of here. He'll kill you all."

"Perfect!" Edgar swore loudly. He gave Sarah a final look before he turned and dashed out of the room. So, there were two vampires in the nest. One was chained to a bed. The other was trying to sink his fangs into Ian. Again.

Alan looked at the water pistol in his hand then back at Sarah. She shrugged and tugged at the metal shackles that were clamped tightly around her bruised wrists.

"Um, think you could help me out?" She asked Alan as she lifted her hands and pulled the chains tight. She doubted that he had the key but maybe he had a nail file or something useful in his arsenal for a change.

"I-." Alan swallowed before he lost his nerve completely. Without so much as a peep, he bolted after Edgar, leaving Sarah sitting in complete darkness. He would rather be wherever his brother was then left alone with a genuine bloodsucking vampire.

"Typical" Sarah sighed and took stock of her situation. Did she have any bobby pins? Yes, and they were perfectly shaped for picking old locks.

"Girl, if you want anything done, do it yourself." She bent a pin between her teeth and began to probe the antique locking mechanism.


	28. We Are The Champions

Chapter Theme Song: "We Are The Champions" by Queen

***Some characters deserve a Freddie Mercury send-off. (grabs a Kleenex)

* * *

"Hang on Ian!" Edgar hollered above the noise as he charged into the main cavern with his weapons at the ready. Running like mad to catch up, Alan tore out of the bleak narrow tunnel with both high-performance water pistols drawn.

"I can't believe it." He panted. "We're actually going to have to kill her."

"We've got bigger problems!" Tory shot past them with a large piece of a wooden bedpost in her hands. She swung the jagged lance over her head like a baseball bat and aimed for Dwayne's exposed back, but he ducked just in time and her swing went wide.

"Crapsticks!" Tory swore as the momentum sent her spinning sideways.

"Three against one. Good odds." Alan pulled a holy water filled balloon from his vest pocket and tossed it to his brother. "We doing this?"

"Game on." Edgar nodded. Now was the time to prove to the world that the Frog Brothers were made of the right stuff. It was time for vampires to die. "Suck on this, death breath!"

Edgar was never going to make the school track team. But if monster hunting did not pan out, he could always try out for the baseball team. The water balloon was thrown with perfect aim and it hit the target dead on.

"ARGH!"

Dwayne's shrieks of pain-fuelled rage filled the cave when the water balloon erupted across his shoulders. His leather jacket took the brunt of the hit and provided some protection, but the blessed water splashed upward onto exposed skin. The back of his neck and the right side of his face smoked as the stink of melting flesh was added to the already pungent mix of damp and sea-swept decay.

Already heavily injured, Dwayne was fighting at a severe disadvantage. If he wasn't careful, these teen pissants stood a good chance of winning. He was not about to let that happen. He needed to feed fast and put an end to this.

"You're gonna pay for that in blood!" He hissed at the Frogs as he lunged out of their range with a wildly struggling Ian clutched tightly in his deadly claws.

"Let me go!" Ian kicked and squirmed like a man possessed.

Dwayne clamped his hand over Ian's mouth and jerked his head to the side to get a clean bite. Out of sheer desperation, Ian bet Dwayne to the punch and bit him first. Human teeth had nothing on a pair of killer fangs, but Ian was terrified and that gave him the drive to dig deep and tear through skin. Blood flooded his mouth, thick and cold, and he choked on it before Dwayne clamped down on the base of his neck.

Pure virgin iron spiked with the intoxicating spice of sheer terror. The perfect feed and Dwayne gorged on that heady life force. The deeper he pulled; the less Ian struggled. In that intimate moment between predator and prey, Dwayne closed his eyes to savour the moment when Ian's pulse faltered under the stress of his bite. There was no turning back now, not past the breaking point when the heart lost control.

Wood whistled through the air and the bedpost collided into Dwayne's lower back with a meaty smack, right on the bullet wound that had almost ended him.

"He's mine." Tory's eyes were tinted yellow with a heat that went beyond anger. "You can't have him."

Dwayne doubled back in pain, but his grip was still secure. Unlatching his fangs, he gave Tory a blood-filled sneer as his tongue caressed the deep wounds on Ian's neck. "Too late."

The next swing was blocked by his panther-clad arm and in doing so, Dwayne was forced to release Ian. Instead of bounding away like a spooked rabbit, Ian fell forward as his knees gave out. He went down hard and lay unmoving among the trash that littered the cave floor. Twin streams of crimson dripped steadily from his torn throat as his eyes stared without seeing.

"Ian!" Tory's scream was all animal as she swung the bedpost at Dwayne's head with everything she had.

Dwayne's claws sunk into the wooden post and he yanked Tory toward him. Instead of his teeth, Tory's was met with his balled fist at full speed. The uppercut sent her careening across the cave and straight into the busted chandelier faster than the human eye could follow. She landed wrong and her head cracked against the rust-encrusted metal frame. Too stunned to register the sharp lance of pain, Tory tried to move her arms, but the world was all upside down and sideways.

That was two down, and two more to go.

Moving in tandem, the Frogs did not wait for the fight to come to them. They were now the last line of defense. Streams of holy water criss-crossed in mid-air as the Frogs rained down holy acid onto Dwayne's head. Edgar's heavy-duty pump-action super soaker provided a thick steady stream of deadly cover while Alan's precision shots took out bare skin.

The sudden onslaught of holy water drove Dwayne away from Ian's prone form as the Frogs pushed him back toward the solid rock wall. There was no direction he could move in that did not piss pure acid at his face.

"Eyes! Take out the eyes!" Edgar lobbed another water balloon at Dwayne's feet to buy some time to re-charge the water gun.

The Frogs had learned their lesson the hard way and they were not about to get within striking distance of Dwayne until he was reduced nothing more than a steaming pile of melted flesh and bone. He couldn't bite them if he couldn't reach them.

Alan dropped to his knees, brought a pistol up, took the shot.

"I'm out!" Alan growled, as a pathetic dribble of water squirted out the business end of the squirt gun.

"Switch to tactile." Edgar stood over his brother, legs apart, the soaker locked into the cradle of his shoulder. Dwayne tried to dart left and Edgar made him double-back. Alan holstered his pistols and reached under his vest for his back-up long-range weapon. Custom-made to his design, the metal slingshot fit his hand as if it were an extension of himself. Attached at the belt around Alan's waist was a pouch filled with round metal balls, the perfect ammunition.

Having taken a page from Tory's book of "assault all evil and live to tell about it", he had soaked the metal bearing balls in a container of holy water that he had procured from a local catholic church. He was not taking any chances this time. Anything that could have been blessed or soaked had been given a thorough cleansing that day.

"Cover me." Alan readied the sling-shot and aimed.

"Make him eat steel." Edgar's grip on his soaker did not waver as his finger squeezed the trigger.

Burning missiles and stinging water pelted Dwayne from two directions as the Frog brothers backed him into a corner. The Frogs had no idea if their friends were still alive. If they wavered in their actions, even for a moment to check, they would lose their advantage. Instead, they were determined to make the vampire pay in spades for what he had done to Ian and Tory.

The bombardment lasted minutes until they ran out of ammunition. By the time Alan shot his last steel ball, Dwayne was laid low between the cave wall and the tall red tower tool box that housed all his tools and spare bike parts.

"Hey! You dead yet?" Alan picked up the discarded bedpost that Tory had used while Edgar replaced his empty soaker for a welded metal crucifix and a wooden stake. When there was no response, Edgar took the lead and carefully prowled toward the tool box. Alan went to the left, keeping low and as he moved quietly. No words were uttered, just a flurry of hand signals as the two brothers positioned themselves for the final kill.

 _"We can do this."_ Edgar thought as he adjusted his grip on the wooden stake. In the next few seconds, they would kill their first vampire. They were about to become legit vampire killers.

"Outta my way Frogs! This fucker's mine." Bloodied, torn, and mad as hell, Tory bulled past Edgar without so much as a sideways glance. She unleashed a wordless yell and sent the heavy tool kit crashing down on top of Dwayne with a well-placed kick.

The Frogs were stunned. Tory did not have a weapon with her. What she did have were two sets of razor-sharp fingernails and a mouthful of nightmares.

Snarls, roars, shrieks and growls rebounded off the cave walls as Tory flung herself onto the injured vampire and gave no quarter. Dwayne began to resemble something Picasso could have cooked up in an opium-induced nightmare. Whatever exposed skin he had was pock-marked with third-degree burns and blood-filled blisters. Bone was exposed on his hands and face where the skin and muscle had been eaten away by holy water. The steel balls had left gaping wounds and garish bruises wherever they had struck. The pick-me-up that Ian's blood had provided had worn off and he was now the worse for it. So, went Tory lit into him, Dwayne took the only option he had and bolted toward a hole in the far corner of the cave that was hidden behind a pile of rubble.

"Get back here, you coward!" Tory lunged after him, her nails swiping at air as he dove into what looked to be a dilapidated elevator shaft. "You die tonight so just do it already."

Tory did not hesitate for a second as she followed Dwayne into the black unknown, leaving Edgar and Alan alone in the cave.

"Her face. Did you see her face?" Edgar stared after Tory, not quite able to believe what he had just witnessed. "How did that happen?"

"I don't know. " Alan dropped the bedpost and hurried over to Ian's side. "C'mon Ian, now's not the time for a fainting fit. Wake up."

"I don't know. I don't think so. I just..." Edgar peered into the shaft, unable to make out anything in the darkness. He had no idea how far back it went, or what could be waiting on the other side. "Alan?"

"He's not breathing."

Edgar squeezed his eyes shut and counted to five. "What can we do? There has to be something we can do. Don't just sit there. Do something!"

"Like what? We're in a cave! No one knows where we are! I don't think CPR works on severe blood loss. I mean..." Alan was gentle as he rolled Ian over onto his back to expose the extent of the damage. "There's nothing left, Edgar. I think he's gone."

"No." Edgar refused to believe it.

"Edgar."

"No!"

Edgar threw down his weapons as he marched over where Ian lay and knelt beside his brother. "C'mon Ian. Don't you dare flake out on us now. This was all your idea, remember? Wake up. Dammit Ian, wake up!"

Shaking Ian only clarified what Alan had already discovered. There was nothing going on behind those vacant eyes.

This was not a comic book. There were no do-overs in real life.

A heavily silence settled around them as the Frogs sat there and waited for sign that would let them know if Tory was still alive. They waited in tense anticipation as the dark mouth of the elevator shaft remained empty. The only sound that reached their ears was the faint ruffling of feathers from the roosting pigeons overhead.


End file.
